It still snows
by Yaoi-Mayer
Summary: What would happen if Finland resurrected - not only as a country but also as Tino Väinämöinen? He seems to have changed, Sweden knows that much, even if he can't point out exactly how. Sequel for "A regular visit". M for last chapter.
1. It still snows

**Hey there! Okay, so I decided to continue this, apparently. This is kinda a sequel for my other SuFin-fic, 'A regular visit'.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, I only write for the fandom's sake and for mine!**

**Thanks to DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D**

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Over four centuries.

Actually, four hundred and forty six years.

Sweden did this every year. Now was no different. This was just another year, another Christmas he wished he could have spent with his dear wife.

Nothing had changed.

His steps were the same. Slowly and almost carefully taken as he walked through the snow that was spread across the ground in a thicker layer than normally. It was as cold as normally, too.

One hand clad in a black material tightly wrapped around a brown paperbag containing three flowers. A small case for his glasses stowed away in a pocket in which he was also having a necklace with a cross attached to it.

Peter was with England. Norway had beaten Denmark for trying to run away with his little curl. Iceland was being shy as always, carrying around his puffin on his shoulder like it was a small parrot.

And Sweden still missed Finland.

Yes. Everything really seemed to be normal. Like nothing had happened and Finland had just never been there.

...

_Like Finland had never been there.  
_  
That hurt. That always hurt. No matter how much he thought that sentence, it always hurt. He tried to get used to it, tried so hard to make his emotions calm down and not go berserk when he thought of his dear wife and that one, simple sentence.

He had never succeeded.

Sweden opened the familiar gate that gave the normal, eerie sound you always hear in horror movies. His boots pressed the snow flat, his weight doing whatever it could to help.

He saw the tombstone even before he should be able to, his eyes trained to find it as soon as possible so he could see the place where his only true love was buried.

Sweden had never loved anyone before he had set eyes on Finland. That little man who always smiled and always talked. People often said that Finland spoke too much. Sweden couldn't disagree more. He always loved to hear Finland speak. Finland always spoke for both of them with the amount of words that spilled from his cute, little mouth.

His nervous laugh when he thought Sweden was mad at him or annoyed with him because of his stern and emotionless face. But Sweden had never been angry with Finland. Never. Not once. Finland didn't do anything that could make the Swede have that feeling toward him. He was just too adorable.

The chuckle he would occasionally give when he tried to contain his laughter when at the meetings. Apparently, Sweden said funny things that made Finland chuckle so much he either fell from his chair and was in cramps, or made him simply leave the room. He would peek in a few minutes later, getting eye contact with Sweden while ignoring everyone else and their confused expressions, and he would break down again, leaving the room once more.

They could all hear his incredibly loud laughter in the hallway and they could nearly see the tears well up in his eyes. The others would maybe look at Sweden to figure out what the hell had just been going on. But Sweden would never give anything away; his face was blank and unmoving as always. On the inside, though, he was the complete opposite.

The other Nordics rolled their eyes while Denmark huffed slightly and sent an annoyed glance at the Swede who didn't notice him. He only had eyes for Finland and his heart nearly burned with happiness and passion when he knew how he made Finland feel.

Eventually, the Finn would come back, eyes red and teary and he would take his seat beside Sweden again, acting like nothing had happened. And how tired he would be. Finland was always so tired when he had been laughing and chuckling like that. This also meant that Sweden would allow himself to let Finland rest against him during the rest of the meeting and on the way home.

Normally, he would be too afraid to lose his cool and just not give a damn about anything, and he was afraid he would end up harming the man he loved the most. The only man he loved. But when Finland was sleeping, when that little face was so relaxed and he could feel the body slowly move with his breathing, he could only stare at him. His eyes would never move from the perfect lips that were parted ever so slightly, the closed and relaxed eyes and the cute little sounds that occasionally escaped him. Sort of snoring, the other called it.

Sweden didn't care about a name for the sound. He just knew he found it so incredibly cute. Everything about Finland was cute.

Especially the way Finland would never wake up when they should get out of the vehicle or airplane or whatever transportation they had been taking. Sweden would try and wake him for a few minutes but when he never succeeded, he would let a warm smile slip over his face, freaking the other Nordics out, before he would carefully pick up the sleeping man and carry him into the house and into the bedroom to put him under the blankets and duvets.

And resting there, nearly entirely covered by the countless fabrics and pillows - Finland surrounded himself with them, for some reason - Sweden would just stand beside the bed, smile gone but still warm on the inside. He would maybe stroke the cheek or the hair but nothing more than that before he would leave the room again, closing the door silently so he wouldn't wake him up.

By the tombstone sat a small shadow with its back to him. Sweden seemingly didn't notice as he slowly walked closer, frosty flakes landing in his hair and melting over time, making the blond strands wet before freezing cold and stiff. The paperbag rustled, snow squeaked. Air escaped him in small clouds.

"You sho'ld go hom'. It's col' outside today," he mumbled when he was close enough for the small person to hear and to notice himself. Said person didn't let it show if he or she had heard Sweden's words. And Sweden only cared about the person because this was Finland's grave. No one should be sitting here, except Sweden. This was Sweden's place, he would stay here forever and ever if he could.

Now, the big and blonde Nordic stood by the person clad in a long and heavy-looking black cloak. It was complete with a hood and everything so Sweden could see absolutely nothing of him or her. It didn't mean anything to him, though. Except that there was a slightly wrong feeling about the person. Like he or she didn't belong here.

But what did Sweden know, he had been up till way too late tonight to finish a piece of furniture for an important client. He was tired and wanted to sleep but more than that, he wanted to visit Finland's last place of peace. He would never stop that, he would never miss out on this visit. If he broke a leg and an arm, then he would still go. Lost a lung and a kidney? Oh well, you have two of both so that didn't matter. Besides, it would only be a small sting of pain whenever he moved. Nothing that would hinder him in going here.

"D' you mind? I wan' a little privacy here." The Swede was normally not someone who bossed others around - he left that job for Denmark who did it perfectly fine - and he would normally respect others at a graveyard. But this person... there was something about him or her that Sweden couldn't quite define. And though it didn't scare him at all, he really wanted privacy when talking to Finland.

Because he would always cry, that was for sure, and that was so embarrassing. He didn't want anyone to see that, not even a stranger.

He got no reaction from the mysterious person. Sweden nearly frowned.

"Could it b' you are a frien' of Tino?" he then asked. And this time, he actually got a reaction. Small and bare hands grabbed the edge of the hood and folded it back, exposing a small head with short, blond strands just visible under a white beret.

Without knowing why, a deep, so very deep, stab of pain drove through his heart and nearly had him show an expression. That hair looked just like Tino's. It was the same kind of beret, as well.

"You should have brought Hanatamago. She would have recognized me in an instant."

Sweden froze. And it had nothing to do with the cold, nothing to do with the snow that still gently fell on top of his head.

"How is she doing, by the way? You usually talk about the others and you."

Sweden's heart skipped a beat before coming to a halt for a painfully long second. No. This... this couldn't be. There was no way it was possible, he would have heard of it. He would have known if the government had planned on forming Finland once more. He would have noticed it, would have felt it.

He had felt the confusion when people living in the country called Finland suddenly got new nationalities and he had felt it when people moved to either his own country or to Russia.

Sweden would have felt it and known it if Finland was created again.

But it was as sure as frozen water being cold and boiling water being hot that it was Finland who turned around and smiled up at him.

It was his big and bright, violet eyes that looked like amethysts, shining and glistening with the many facets of a real diamond. And it was the same smile that could light the darkest pits and pools of darkness. Wide and cute as ever. The soft and pale cheeks that were now covered by an ever so feathery hint of pink, a so very soft blush crawling over his face. They looked slightly thinner than usual, like he had lost weight. The hair was the same, as well, Sweden saw when the beret was slowly removed. Blond and short, some of the strands playfully brushing his ears. Small and cute ears that had to hear Sweden's heartbeat. Or lack thereof.

Because Sweden was not sure if his heart had set a pace twice as fast as it normally would or if it had simply stopped. He did not know if the pain in his chest was due to the muscle that brought vital blood to the rest of his system or if it was because his mind told him this was real but that he would also lose Finland again.

But... he knew one thing. He knew that his knees gave in and that they connected with the hard but yet strangely soft and cold snow. The coat was shielding his trousers from the wet substance, his hands resting beside him, one on either side.

And Finland chuckled. And it was the same sound as Finland had ever made. The soft but chilling sound, like a million bells ringing in the cold and frosty air, bringing message of a saint coming close. A sound containing so much softness it was like touching a chinchilla's fur, as friendly as the friend you have always had, that friend you can tell everything to. It was as gentle as the gentle brushes of fingers against your cheeks and your hair.

It was all that was Finland. Even his nose. Small and cute, with a slightly rounder tip than you would usually see. But it was red as Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer's nose. Was he freezing?

A hand reached out for him. A small hand, smaller than he remembered, wrapped in tight and black leather, the fabric gently hugging each little bit of skin, the contour of each finger so very clear. Sweden could almost see the pearly nails.

And then the fingers brushed his cheek. It made Sweden's breath hitch and he thought he would pass out. The touch was all Finland, it was so much him. How... how could it be? How could Finland be alive, how could his touch feel so real?

Sweden knew he was dead. Sweden had been the one to fix Finland before his funeral. Sweden had washed the Finn's dead body and Sweden had covered it in beautiful white clothes that only made Finland look even more like the angel Sweden saw him as. Sweden had brushed the hair and set it perfectly. And Sweden had carefully put him in the coffin and closed the lid.

All of it done without showing a single hint of emotions. But on the inside, he had been choking up and his heart had ached so immensely with each single beat. His movements had been slow and precise as ever, he hadn't show a single bit of emotions, not even in the way his fingers brushed over the skin, wished so deeply that Finland would just open his eyes and smile up at him.

And now... now he was right there. Finland was right there in front of him and he was... why wasn't he smiling anymore? Why did Finland look so serious? Finland shouldn't look like that, Finland was always happy and Finland did always smile.

But it was gone now. The smile had gone and he was instead frowning as he moved a bit closer, his fingers brushing Sweden's cold cheeks. And they got a tiny bit firmer as Finland came to sit in front of the other, his long cloak shielding him from the cold and from sitting directly in the wet snow.

Sweden felt both his cheeks be grabbed gently by Finland's gloved hands. His mind went blank, he was left to only stare at the man he so fiercely wished would come back. And now he was there, he really was there. Those fingers weren't a ghost's. They were warm and soft, gentle as they had always been.

"Swe?" the Finn whispered, eyes flickering over the Swede's face. "Swe, what's the matter?"

Only then did Sweden realize that the pain in his chest was also because he had held his breath, that since Finland had turned around he hadn't exhaled nor inhaled air that his lungs now so desperately craved and needed.

He let the air out and took a new breath and he could hear how it shook and how it was uneven.

"Tino." His lips formed the words and his tongue gave them sound. It wasn't pronounced as good as he was able to, the shock being too much for him. "Tino. Tino. S... Smile."

And the Finn tilted his head ever so lightly, looking like a curious dog. His eyes slowly moved over Sweden's face, as if trying to find sense in what he had just said.

"Smile? Why?" But he did it. The corners of his lips pulled upwards and created the most perfect, most wonderful smile Sweden would ever see. And it was only for him. Only for him and for Peter.

His breath came out as a shaking, wheezing sound and he closed his eyes. But he could still see it. The smile was as if burnt into his retina.

"Swe? You're acting weird, are you okay?" Finland asked, his voice sounding most curious but also scared and worried. His strong Swede was being weird, his strong Swede looking like he had trouble with something.

His expression was lacking as always but Finland knew the man enough to see that something was wrong. Sweden might never show what he felt, might never crack the smallest hint of a smile but Finland didn't need that. He only needed to hear Sweden's voice and look into his eyes to know when something was off. Which was very rare as Sweden was always so strong and calm and composed, he never let anything get to him.

Sweden felt the Finn's hands grasp around both of his cheeks. The fingers brushed over his cold skin, his eyes opened and he saw Finland sit right there, right in front of him. The eyes shone but it was with anything but happiness. It was with pure worry.

"Swe! Say something!" The smile faltered a bit, his face becoming serious.

Sweden took a deep breath.

"I... Sorry, Tino, it's just... you hav' been dead for s' long and then you're here aga'n."

Finland let out a small sigh, the air forming a tiny, white cloud in front of his mouth before a wide smile spread on his face. "You're cutting vowels again, Swe. I thought you had fixed that."

"You... you actuall' heard wha' I said to you?" the Swede mumbled and slowly, ever so slowly and carefully lifted his own gloved hand, the paperbag falling to the ground, and the flowers becoming exposed. He didn't care about that, though, as his fingers made contact with Finland's cheeks, touches so soft as if he was afraid the other would break from them.

"Everything," Finland whispered and closed his eyes. "I heard everything you said. I don't know how, I couldn't see you, I could just... it was as if the words just seeped into my mind."

Sweden took yet another deep breath before letting his touches get firmer, feeling the man better. And even through the thick gloves he could feel the heat that radiated from his small man. He felt the warm skin, the tips of his fingers brushing over the face he knew so well, yet had never really known. Finland's head got slightly heavier as he leaned into the touches, eyes still closed, and a content sound escaped his throat. It nearly sounded like he was humming.

"I was happy, Swe. When you talked to me, I was happy. It made me glad that you remembered it every single year. You never failed, never missed a day, a year. And it was always the same time of the day."

Sweden nodded. Yes, he had made it a rule for him to make the visit at the exact same time every year. Both when he left flowers and when he would take back the cross a few days before New Year's Eve.

He was in shock, still. How could this happen...? How could Finland be alive again? He had been dead for so long, over four hundred years. What had happened? Why hadn't he felt anything? Heard anything? Shouldn't the government have told him anything? Sweden had been the one to take most of Finland's population when Finland was no longer a country. Russia had taken the rest while a few others had gone to other places in the world. Sweden remembered that Denmark had been pissed that none had gone to his place.

And when had it happened? When had Tino resurrected? When had the government decided to bring back Finland as a country?

The Swede looked closer at the other, bringing their faces a tiny bit closer together. He saw the familiar shine of nervousness when he got close but as always he had no intention of doing anything.

The eyes were clear and bright as ever but the colour was slightly duller and more faded than it had been before. The skin was paler, colder as well despite still being warm. Sweden took off a glove and dropped it on the ground, his fingers running through the Finn's stiff and cold hair.

"When did you get back?" he asked and pulled back again. He knew how his face was showing an expression now, one of confusion.

"I remember waking up in the snow this very morning."

"S' you didn't wake 'p in a cof'in?" Finland shook his little blond head and took Sweden's hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"Nope."

The bigger of the men stared at the smaller for a long time before noticing a slight shivering of the other's body. The cloak was covering his figure entirely but Sweden could see the trembling of the limbs.

"You're freezin'," he mumbled and stretched his arms out and forward as he moved his legs as well, going in for an embrace. At first, he felt Finland stiffen in his grip but it look less than seconds before he relaxed and let his head fall onto Sweden's shoulder.

"I have lost weight," he just said and Sweden could feel it now when he was so close. The cloak did a good job in covering the small body but the Swede could still feel bones poke out through the fabric. When letting his hand run over the back, his fingers could easily make out every vertebra, feel the contour of the bones. He felt so fragile in his big and strong, powerful arms.

It was therefore with immense care that he hugged the smaller man tighter to his chest and picked up the brown paperbag while lifting the small Finn at the same time.

"It's Christmas," Sweden mumbled, his voice deep and shaking, "we'll mak' you chubby again."

Finland pouted, a yelp following when he suddenly found himself resting in Sweden's arms, his head lying against the broad chest.

"I'm not chubby!" he grumbled but couldn't help a wide, bright smile. "I was just... I like food, okay?"

"I kno'. It's cute."

Sweden then carried his wife back to the car, through the snow and through the metal gate that still gave that eerie sound. Once inside the car, Finland was carefully placed on the passenger seat before Sweden went to the front seat and started the car as well as turned on the heat. He took off his coat and draped it around the small Finn over the cloak.

"Where is Peter?" Finland asked in a slow and beginning to be drowsy voice.

"With Englan'. He'll come back tomorrow."

"I see... He's still good?"

"Mh." An affirmative sound. Sweden put the car in reverse and backed a few meters before putting the vehicle in first gear and started to drive forward and out.

"Has he become a nation yet?"

"No. Still a fort but he's become bigge'. He's very excited 'bout it."

Finland smiled softly, his eyes closed and head leaning against the door of the car.

"I understand that. He wants so badly to be like us."

"Mh."

And then there was silence. Sweden soon realized that it was because Finland had fallen asleep. His body moved with the car's movements and his head often made rather violent moves but he didn't wake up.

'Would've thought him to be full of energy after over four hundred years of sleep,' the Swede thought to himself and dared to take his eyes off the road for a second, long enough to see a slight blush covering the Finn's cheeks. He brushed some hair out of the other's eyes and looked back on the road before him. They would soon be home.

Finland didn't wake up when the car stopped. Not that Sweden minded. Quite the opposite. He got to once more carry his lovely, sleeping wife into the house and just as they moved over the door step and got inside, there was a slight stirring in the small body before lids were moved back and beautiful amethysts were looking up at him.

"We're hom'," Sweden informed when the Finn moved his gaze to the things around him and got a confused expression.

"Oh."

"Do you want t' sle'p?" Finland shook his head and made signs that he wanted down. Sweden obeyed and carefully set Finland down again, holding a hand on his shoulder just in case.

"I want a shower and then something to eat... Is that okay?" Sweden nodded and quickly went upstairs to prepare the shower. His feet moved faster than normally and his hands were shaking when he found towels and clean clothes. He hadn't touched Finland's room - except for when cleaning it - and the only other person he had allowed access was little Sealand.

Moving into the bathroom, he put the things down on their appropriate places so they wouldn't get wet but were still reachable, then moved to the sink and grabbed it with both hands. 'Calm down,' he thought to himself and stared down at the white and clean porcelain. 'It's Tino, he's come back. Just be yourself, act like you always do. Try to ignore that he has been dead for over four hundred years.'

But that was of course impossible. The one most important to him had been missing in his life for four hundred and forty six years. How could he ignore, let alone forget, that fact? It was impossible. But... now he was back. He was in this very house and he was alive. He was talking, breathing, smiling, chuckling. Like nothing had happened. He was thinner, that was all.

He heard steps behind him but he didn't have time to turn around before a pair of arms was put around his waist and a small body leaned against his own.

"Swe, would you... mind joining me?" the Finn mumbled into his clothes, making the words near incomprehensible.

"Is that okay wi'h you?"

"Mmh. That's why I'm asking, Rockface." Finland chuckled a little before pulling away, letting the Swede turn around. His face was stern and cold but as always when Sweden actually felt something, Finland could see it in his eyes.

"Do you wan' me t' look away when you undres', or?" The Finn shook his head and couldn't help a small smile when he saw Sweden nearly blush. It was nothing more than a dust of pink across his face but it was the closest Sweden had ever gotten to blushing.

"I don't mind." The Swede nodded slowly and with equally unhurried but shaking fingers started to unbutton his shirt after having turned on the hot water. Finland took off Sweden's coat and folded it carefully before putting it on the floor in front of the door. He then fumbled a bit with the cloak, apparently having problems with the opening. Sweden leaned a bit forward and helped him, making the heavy fabric fall to the floor and reveal that Finland was absolutely and utterly naked.

The bigger man froze for a second before he pulled away again, forcing his eyes to only look at Finland's face. He was no pervert and wouldn't look at Finland's private parts so it wasn't really that hard to keep his eyes away from that place.

"You wer' naked under this?" he concluded, though with an asking tone and began to remove his socks, pants and glasses while Finland jumped into the shower, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Mmh," was all he received. Finland stood under the hot stream of water, eyes closed but head facing directly against the shower head so the water shot him square in the face. And despite the temperature his body was still shivering.

It took a long minute for the Swede to think about what he was now about to do. Having removed the last piece of clothing and folded it, he carefully stepped in behind Finland and let his arms slip around the smaller man. It made the Finn yelp lightly in surprise and his body tensed but much to Sweden's relief, he relaxed after a few seconds.

His heart was beating so fast. He had never been this close to his Tino. He had seen him naked only once - the first time he had bathed him. This made it the second time, and now he was all alive and breathing...

His body showed to be warmer than he had thought. When he first hugged Tino, the man was shaking from cold but as they just stood there and let the water hit against them, Finland slowly got warm as well.

As Sweden felt the shivering stop he was about to pull away but Finland apparently didn't want this. He took a firm hold of Sweden's upper arm and gently forced him to remain standing behind him. Sweden's breath hitched once more but he happily complied and moved even closer. He could feel Finland's spine poke against his own chest and stomach.

Because the Swede was much bigger than the small Finn, he was nearly leaning over the other, his arms tightly wrapped around the thin waist. Finland was leaning his head back, resting it against Sweden's shoulder and he was humming lightly, a content and satisfied sound that Sweden found so very appealing.

How long they stood like that none of them knew. It could have been ten minutes as well as it could have been an hour. They just let the water pour over them and run down their bodies, both of them having their eyes closed and just feeling each other, letting the other know they were there.

Sweden's heart never seemed to get accustomed to this, though. It continued to beat so fast and he nearly wished it would just slow down. It could maybe scare little Tino.

When Finland opened his mouth, this was exactly what Sweden feared he would say.

"Your heartbeat is so fast, Swe," he mumbled, eyes slowly opening.

"Mh." He remained where he was.

"Are you nervous?"

"... Mayb'. A bit."

Finland giggled and turned his head a bit so he could look at the Swede who still had his eyes closed.

"There's nothing to worry about. I'm still me. And I know you would never do anything to hurt me."

"...Mh." He knew that, as well. But that didn't hinder his body in reacting to having his Tino so close - and naked.

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**Because everybody loves cliffhangers. **


	2. Eventually

**Woop woop! New chapter, hurray. Or something. Anyhow, I do NOT own Hetalia or any of the characters. This is only for fun and I make no profit of this whatsoever.  
Once more, thanks to DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D**

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Eventually, the water was turned off and Sweden and Finland stepped out of the shower. They were a towel short as Sweden hadn't expected to shower and he quickly fetched one while Finland dried off his body and hair. In the other room, the Swede used a few seconds to try and force his body to relax and to drive his blood to anywhere but his crotch. He didn't succeed, much to his annoyance, and he was still more or less half erect when he stepped back into the bathroom and began to dry his body.

He knew he was embarrassed by Finland seeing his reaction to their closeness but he also knew that nothing was shown on his face. As if it was completely normal.

And yet, the small Finn chuckled cutely and took Sweden's glasses by the sink and carefully slipped them back on the other man's nose. They stood close to each other, looking into the other pair of eyes. Royal-blue and icy meeting warm amethysts with a hint of fondness that Sweden wasn't sure he had ever seen in those perfect eyes before they had been closed for what he thought was forever.

"I'll go prepare some food," Finland then said and moved to the door with quick steps.

"Mh," was all he received as Sweden got on his clothes, not caring about his 'problem' in the least. He purposefully used a longer time than usually, though, so his body would realize there was no need for an erection and therefore give it up. Only when this happened did he step out of the warmth of the bathroom and moved down the stairs, vaguely wondering why Hanatamago hadn't begun barking or yapping. Surely she must have felt that someone long dead had entered the house? Didn't dogs have that sense?

The thought quickly got deleted when his nostrils inhaled the wonderful scent of Finland's cooking. Finland had an... interesting taste in food and could make the weirdest dishes that Sweden would normally never dream of getting close to. But because it was Finland's cooking, he ate it without protest and he had more than once found the food extremely delicious despite its gross appearance.

He couldn't quite place the smell, though, couldn't really remember what it could be. It had been a long time since he had eaten anything remotely close to Finnish.

Descending the stairs, he heard pots and pans slide over the hotplates in the kitchen and he heard the Finn's slight humming and small words that occasionally joined in. Sweden stopped three steps from the floor. Finland would often sing while cooking but he would always stop when he knew Sweden was nearby. And this time, it seemed the Swede hadn't been noticed, so he used it to his advance.

Whatever it was the Finn was humming - more like singing by now - it was something from his own country. It was without a doubt one of his hardcore rock-bands' songs and though Sweden felt like he should recognize it, he couldn't. It was familiar, yes, but that was all. Not that he cared. It was Finland singing and though the man didn't think himself a good singer, Sweden'sopinionwas quite the opposite. But, as Denmark had pointed out several times, Finland always ended last when they were playing SingStar. Because even they did that at times.

It was always much to Sweden's immense annoyance that Denmark scored higher than Finland, even if only by a few hundred points. However, it didn't seem to matter to Finland; he knew he could beat every single one of them if there would also be given points for the show performed. Because Finland always rocked out like there was no tomorrow, no matter what song it was. Love song? Screw that, I'm Lordi. Some nice and cosy jazz with saxophones? To hell with that, I have two air-guitars that need exercise.

Finland was never going easy on the microphones, either. More than once had they lost a microphone due to Finland's voice that was surprisingly loud and rough when singing (more like screaming). One time, Denmark had actually commented on that. 'Nåårh, Sverige, you wish you could make him scream like that, eh?'

Denmark had been 'sleeping' the rest of the night while Sweden tried to calm down Finland who was horribly embarrassed and covered his face with his hands.

Norway and Iceland had been talking about different brands of coffee until Finland was calm enough to continue playing.

Sweden was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard an ear-piercing ringing and then the Finn chirp "Dinner is ready!" Exactly as if they were actually married and Finland was actually his wife who did the chores in the house while Sweden was out working while their little son played video games.

The perfect family.

"I kno'," the Swede said and took the three last steps down, causing Finland to shriek lightly, whirling around with a pot in his gloved hands.

"How long have you been standing there?" he demanded to know and blushed, putting the pot aside and finding plates, glasses and cutlery.

"Long enough t' kno' ya still sing well." Sweden saw the other blush even more and his movements became flustered and flummoxed as he moved around with things, carrying them to the table in the living room.

"Wha' did ya sing?" he then asked and sat by the table as it was set. A pitcher with clear water was put in front of Sweden while Finland had grabbed a bottle of his own vodka. Sweden never protested when he did this. He knew that even though Finland was a small and light guy, he could consume shocking amounts of alcohol without even becoming tipsy.

Sweden had counted the times Finland and Denmark had been having drinking contests. Finland won nearly every time, much to his delight and his triumph and he would gloat over it for days while Denmark just threw things at him or sent him curses via e-mail. He hated losing to Finland. But he never stopped the contests; he insisted on getting revenge.

"A little bit of everything, really," Finland answered and sat down across Sweden, uncapped his vodka and took a big swig. A swig big enough to impress even Russia. Especially since Finland drank it like it was just plain water. "You know Children of Bodom?"

Sweden nodded. Yeah, he knew them, but only thanks to the man in front of him. That band really wasn't his favourite but Finland loved them dearly so he never said a bad word about them.

"Yeah. Some of their songs. I know you don't like them that much but I didn't think you were listening, so..." The Finn fiddled a bit with the cutlery before beginning to eat.

"Don't say 't lik' that. I like t' hear ya sing. I wish ya did 't some mor'." Sweden watched the smaller man's face go bright red, taking a colour that even Spain's prize tomatoes would envy.

"You're embarrassing again, Swe."

"Not sorry." A light chuckle and a small from Finland and they ate in a silence that was only slightly awkward.

Sweden had a lot questions he wanted to ask the other but he wasn't sure if he could. Would it be too close? Was Finland ready to be asked about his stay in Heaven? Because he could only have been in Heaven, there was no way he could have ended in Hell. But wouldn't it be the best to just ask? The worst he could get was a 'no' and if he got that he would accept that and then he would just try again later.

It really wasn't that much of a deal, was it? It was a question... But what if he hurt Finland? That was the one thing that he didn't want to do.

Sweden didn't know he had been staring at Finland while thinking but he did as the man yelped and nearly cowered away in the chair.

"S-Swe? Did I do anything wrong?" he asked with a tiny voice, looking at the other with worried eyes.

"... Nej. Jus' thinkin'." This didn't seem to dampen the Finn's fear in the slightest.

"A... about what?"

"..."

They exchanged long glares, Sweden's being hard and icy while Finland's was confused and anxious. The smaller man took another big swig of his vodka, trying to calm his nerves. Why did Sweden have to be so scary, anyway?! How did he even do it?!

"Can I ask ya 'bout your death?" Sweden then proceeded, his voice sounding surprisingly soft. It didn't fit him at all and it was this more than the actual words that got Finland's eyes to widen.

As Finland didn't answer for a long moment Sweden was sure he had crossed some kind of boundary for his small Tino and he was already apologizing when Finland just nodded.

"If you want to know, I will answer the best I can," he said and offered a gentle smile for the Swede. Honestly, it had caught him by surprise but he had already prepared his first question.

"How was 't? Heaven, I mean." He got a highly peculiar reaction from the other as he sighed lightly and closed his eyes.

Wondering if he had already gone too far, Sweden remained quiet and his face didn't show a single hint of emotions or expressions. He just waited for Finland to tell about it. He didn't want to pressure him, though, and didn't move as much as an inch in his chair. Even his fingers were still, holding around the knife and the fork as his eyes bored into Finland's eyelids.

Sweden had nearly lost hope that his question would get answered and he moved on to the next on the list he had already formed when the Finn suddenly talked. But it wasn't an answer he had expected.

"How much can you see without your glasses, Swe?" he mumbled, surprising Sweden once more.

"Wha'?"

"I mean... are you blind? Do you see everything like through a thick fog? Is it blurry?"

Sweden thought for a moment, then slowly lifted his hands and removed the glasses, staring out in front of him. He couldn't see very well, that was for sure. He never really thought about it as he almost always wore them. But it was indeed like seeing through a thick, thick fog that never seemed to drift away. He could see Finland, could see his face but it was blurry.

The glasses were quickly put back on his nose.

"Mh. Fog. And blurry. Why ya ask?"

"Because up there, I was blind."

The words seemed to nearly echo through the house. Not another sound was heard. The TV wasn't on so that didn't emit a low buzzing that could maybe distract someone with as little attention span as Denmark. Hanatamago was nowhere to be found and she didn't come running from some room or the garden, barking and yapping. There was no sound of cutlery against plates and no sound of glasses being put back on the table.

There was only the sound of Finland's breath and his words.

"I could see nothing. Everything was darkness. I was never sure if my eyes were open or closed but no matter what I did, there was nothing but black, black, black around me. People often say the Heaven is a place full of light and white, don't they? Pretty things, right?"

Finland's smile had suddenly gotten a hint of sadness.

"Well, not for me. I was scared. I was blind and I was deaf. I couldn't hear if there were other people around me. I couldn't hear if something was happening. I only knew what I was thinking. It took me many days to get used to this. I don't know how many, just that time passed by so very slowly.

"I was wrapped in darkness. Could not do anything but sit, lie, walk, jump. Maybe. I could barely sing. I felt my lips move," his fingers twitched lightly but otherwise didn't move, "felt them try to form words but nothing could be heard. I don't know if I actually said something. I just know I tried."

Sweden was silent as the grave. Which was a rather ironic and bizarre comparison, given the topic. He didn't move a muscle, just focused on Finland as he seemed to fall deep in thoughts and memories, his head hanging forward a bit and his eyes staring empty at the food on his plate.

"I remembered things. I remembered watching my own death in the television."

Sweden's heart jumped and then felt like a heavy rock falling to his stomach. Television? It had been broadcasted? When? Maybe... The muscle became alive again and set a pace twice as fast as usual. He could have seen it if he had had the TV running. He had been up late into the night, anyway, so depending on the time, he could have known what was happening with his dear wife.

Could he even have prevented it? Could he have shielded himself from a pain so deep and immense he thought he himself would pass away? Could he have been spared from the agonizing pain that had him lie awake at night for years after his wife's death? Could he have spared himself fromthat night when it became too much and he had been hitting the bars in a weak, pathetic, _miserable _attempt of getting better? The night when he had been crying for his dear Tino, had begged him to return in the way only a drunk and pathetic man was able to...

What if he had seen it? He could have been the one to find Finland, to get the news the first. If only that damn TV had been on... He should have had it on. Important things sometimes happened at night and were only broadcasted at night. Like this. Sweden had seen it several times since then, the moving pictures of important men and women signing papers with sad expressions, some even with tears in their pixelated eyes as their fingers shook when they put their name on the document that officially dissolved the country of Finland.

Only a soft shine in his eyes showed he felt something.

Tino continued.

"I felt... felt sick just by remembering it. I remembered how sick I was. I could barely keep my eyes open and even if my stomach was already empty, I felt like vomiting again and again. I was sweating, yet freezing and my body kept shaking. I wanted to reach for the remote but I was too weak. I sat in the couch, my vision blurry as my eyes just stared lifelessly at the screen, more hearing them than watching them dissolve my country. After they said it, after my boss announced it to the journalists, I lost my sense of hearing in less than half a minute. Then I was left to stare through dying eyes as everything got darker and darker, until I felt my heart stop."

He was whispering now and he was curling up on himself.

"But... I wasn't scared at that time. I knew I was going to die, had known for a long time, but-"

"How long?" Sweden suddenly interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. Finland nearly flinched by the sudden sound, as if he had forgotten Sweden was also here.

"Half a year," he mumbled, continuing to stare at his now cold food. "A month after Christmas Eve, my boss called me for a meeting. I could hear in his voice that it was very serious. At first, I couldn't believe them. I didn't want to. I didn't want to... to leave you. To leave Peter. I said they were lying, that I could fix everything, I would show them.

"But my economy dropped. It spiralled down faster than anything they had ever seen. I fought it, I did what I could. Yet, I couldn't help a stinging pain in my sides. Like when you run too much. I thought it would go away but it didn't. Then I could feel my heart beat faster even if I was just sitting still and doing nothing. I could be sleeping and then wake up because my heart beat so fast it hurt.

"I ignored it. I could explain it, it was only because my boss kept talking about it, that I should just accept it, that was the reason for my fierce heartbeat. I couldn't. There was no way I was just going to accept my death like that. It was only when I became so weak that I couldn't rock out like I used to that I gave in and realized they were right. I don't know how much I drank that night. Enough to kill Denmark twice, that's for sure, though. I don't know if I tried to drink myself to death or what the hell was wrong with me. I just knew that I felt dead already at that time."

He lifted his gaze ever so slightly, eyes grazing over the cold and thick sauce on his plate. A hand reached for the bottle, vodka ran down his throat and he sighed deeply, setting the bottle down again. It didn't even burn.

Sweden kept silent, his mind trying to process all the information that was given to him. He was used to Finland talking like a waterfall but this... this was more than anything he had ever experienced. Finland didn't even speak this much on Christmas Eve which was known for being Finland's 'I'm going to talk all day and you can't do shit about it, so suck it up'-day.

Finland had been scared. He had truly been scared. Sweden could understand it, of course he could. Every country would be scared if they realized they were going to be dissolved. Yet he couldn't help wondering why he hadn't been told anything. Sweden was the one Finland trusted the most, why hadn't he heard of it? He hadn't even heard about it in the television. They hadn't been mentioning it at all. It was as if Tino deliberately had tried to hide it from him, from the rest of the world. Maybe he had?

But for what reason? Was Sweden not important enough to be told such a thing? Did Sweden mean even less to the Finn than he had thought? Was he so unimportant that Finland didn't think he needed to know as soon as possible?

Had Sweden subconsciously been telling himself that Finland liked him when he really didn't? What if he only saw Sweden as a cruel and cold protector? Was Sweden nothing more than a shield in his eyes? Was that all he was good for?

The question escaped him before he knew what he was doing.

"Why didn't ya tell m' anythin'?" The reaction he got was so violent that he could as well have hit Finland. The man flinched wildly before curling even more up on himself, his arms wrapping around his knees. Sweden wanted over to him now, wanted to go over and hug him, pull him into a warm and safe embrace that could wipe away all of his wife's problems and sorrows.

Yet, his body was cold, his heart dead once more and he couldn't move. Had the situation been less serious, he would have accused Denmark of gluing his ass to the chair with superglue.

"I couldn't," the Finn whispered into his knees, the words becoming slightly muffled yet fully audible. "I had to keep my facade. It hurt me, Swe, it really did but I couldn't bear to see Peter's face if I told him I was going to die. I knew it would break him. It would break you and that... that was the last thing I wanted. More than anything, I wanted you to stay happy. Blissfully ignorant."

"It was a disservice," Sweden mumbled, his voice becoming rough with emotions all of a sudden. The only visible sign, though, was eyes that were softer than usually. "If I had known, I could hav' helped ya. I could hav' prevented 't." Finland shook his head violently, eyes closed tightly.

"No. No, no, you couldn't. It was inevitable. They said nothing could be done. Even if the country Finland got help from the country Sweden, nothing could be done. They had never seen anything like it. Even my boss was scared. My people started to fight each other and they moved out of my country. Nothing would have helped."

A long silence stretched out between them and Finland used it to put a shaking hand on the bottle of vodka, downing half of it before putting it back on the table. He was still trembling, his small hands clenching the fabric of his loose trousers tightly.

"But one day," he whispered, voice nothing more than a feathery sound in the otherwise silent air surrounding them, "there was something in the darkness. There was something that cut through the black nothingness and there was something like... a voice in my head. I thought I had gone bonkers at first and I panicked until I recognized the voice. Until I could connect the voice with a face, I was rolling around and screaming without a sound, gripping my hair and trying to... to do _something_. Anything at all. But then I could place the owner of the voice."

Finland's head snapped up and he stared directly at Sweden, meeting the cold man's gaze. The royal-blue orbs weren't a pair of icy globes of cold anymore; they held emotions.

"You," Finland continued and tears welled up in his eyes, a hand being put on the table in front of his plate, as if reaching out for the Swede. The man instantly stood, tipping his chair over with a loud, banging noise and he took three long and precise steps over to the other who only seemed a little nervous by the sudden movement.

Finland was crying. That meant a need for comfort. Sweden would be the first person in the world to fulfil that need, no matter what it took. He let himself fall to the floor so he had about the same height as Finland. The smaller man turned around and leaned forward, letting himself be caught in Sweden's incredibly strong but gentle arms. His head landed on the bigger man's shoulder and Sweden could easily feel how much he was shaking. He didn't say anything.

"You were there all of a sudden." His voice was rough and shaking. "Your voice, your face. You were the first thing, the first person I heard or saw in what felt like an eternity. I was scared all over again. Why were you suddenly there? How had you found me? Could you bring me back?

"But I calmed down again. I found that you talked to me, you asked me things and you told me things. You talked about the everyday life as it went on without me. It was painful at first. Knowing that you could do without me."

"I didn't want t'," Sweden whispered into Finland's shoulder as his grip tightened the slightest bit, pressed the man closer to him. "I didn't want t' do without ya. I would hav' followed ya if I could and if I didn't hav' Peter t' take care of."

Finland hiccupped, then brought his shaking arms around Sweden's broad back, suppressed a sob.

"Don't be stupid," he wheezed, like he was being choked. "You're more useful here than in Heaven. Idiot." The Swede could feel the other's lips twitch in a small smile but his own face was blank even if emotions were starting to demand their roles soon.

"Over time, I came to treasure it. I waited for months to hear your voice and see your face and it filled me with warmth and happiness every single time. I enjoyed those times, even if they felt so short. They never lasted long enough. I wanted them to continue forever. I felt so greedy, wanting you to stay there, in my mind, just talking to me and nobody else but me."

Sweden's body stiffened. His heart stopped, made a back-flip then stopped again. What? What did Finland just say? It couldn't... that couldn't mean that...

No. That was impossible. Sweden just loved the man enough for the words to have a double meaning, a hidden side to it that wasn't really there. He was imagining things, it wasn't real. Of course Finland's words didn't mean what Sweden wanted them to. It was just his mind playing him a trick. But damn, did it play it well.

Yet he couldn't stop believing, couldn't bring himself to put out the hope that still burned in his chest.

"I had time to think while you weren't there," Finland suddenly said, breaking the new silence that had followed his last words. "I thought a lot, actually. I didn't sleep as one is said to do when dead. I was awake the whole time. I was careful to remember who visited me in my mind and who talked to me. I found Denmark and Norway there sometimes. Occasionally Iceland, too. And of course Peter but he was never there without you. But you. You came back regularly. I learned to measure time as the years went by and I found that you were always there at the same time. Always a little before Christmas, and always at the same time of the day."

Sweden made a stiff nod. "How could I anythin' else? I missed ya so much."

"I know. You cried every time. You never visited me without tears welling up in your eyes before leaving again."

"Now you're bein' the embarrassing one," the Swede mumbled, feeling Finland make a light chuckle among his broken sobs.

The Finn fell silent again after that, his head resting against the broad and strong shoulder in front of him, eyes hidden behind heavy lids. Sweden was usually a cold person who only let Finland see his warmth and his true colours, only let Finland see how he could be. Right now, though, his body emitted a strong and very unusual heat and the small blond could feel the heart beat strong and fiercely, a pace slightly faster than the average one.

The strong and yet surprisingly gentle arms were holding him like he was a frail doll Sweden was afraid to break. He could feel the warmth and passion in them, the care he knew that Sweden held for him. Finland smiled softly against the fabric of the other's shirt. It was the last one Finland had given him.

It had been a Christmas present. Denmark had laughed at it, commenting how wrong the pattern was and how uneven the lines that were supposed to be straight were. Finland had been blushing deeply and mumbled that Sweden didn't have to wear it, that it was just something he had been making in secret and that it actually was quite stupid, but he felt that Sweden always did so much for him and gave him great presents so he had been trying to make something himself.

But he had barely had time to drivel out all his apologies before Sweden had effectively shut Denmark up by stuffing a too big orange into his mouth before taking off his own sweatshirt, seemingly ignoring how he exposed his broad and muscular chest and abs, then proceeded to put on the Finn's shirt.

It was warm. Very warm and it smelled of Tino because of the amount of time he had sat over it, working and fighting to get it correct. And it was cosy. Many sweatshirts had that annoying, scratching feeling to them but this one was just completely soft and nice to wear.

He looked up and over at Finland, who looked partly expectant, partly scared to death. By Sweden's 'I lik' 't,' though, he had seemed very happy and he had once more flashed his perfect smile that could light Sweden's world.

It was this one he was wearing now, Finland noticed when he opened his eyes slightly, just barely able to make out the uneven lines. So Sweden had still kept it after all these years? How long, exactly, had it been...? A century? Two, more? He would have used the other's visits to enlighten him but Sweden had visited much too often for that to be a way of figuring out.

Because even if he had had no feeling of the time that had passed, there was only one time when Sweden would bring him flowers and that was always a little before Christmas. He had been visiting other times, bringing little Peter with him and trying to prove to him that mama was gone and that mama would most likely never return.

Sweden didn't seem to have had any hope of his wife returning. Finland could understand it. Who had ever heard of a country dissolving, then resurrecting several centuries later? Sweden surely hadn't. He had heard of a country - or kingdom - dissolving, then the personification living on. His 'dear' cousin, brother to Germany. Somehow, Prussia had managed to live on without a country, had just kept around and annoying everyone else. Why hadn't Tino done this, why had Tino disappeared when Finland was officially no longer a country?

Sweden intended to ask this but it was instead another question that left his lips.

"Do ya... kno' how I've been feelin'?" he mumbled, his own eyes closing slowly as he just _felt _his precious Tino so close to him. Every little movement, every little breath that caused him to move a bit closer and then a bit away. The slight shaking of the arms that pressed against his chest. The head that rolled a little to the side, probably to look at his face. Then the silent 'no' to his question, the blond hair ruffling against his shoulder.

The Swede had not prepared himself to ask that question, let alone prepare an answer. But as he found himself speaking once more, he found that it was okay. He didn't fear this. He didn't fear letting Finland know how he had been feeling for the four hundred and forty six years where he had been forced to live without his true love.

"I've been lon'ly. I had Peter, ja, but somethin' missed. Ya were never 'round an' I always kept thinkin' ya would jump from behin' the couch. Somethin' like that." He truly had been wanting the small Finn back. It had been nearly painful to pass the couch and be disappointed when nothing happened. When his dear wife didn't jump up with a smile on his face, Sweden had felt as if a long and white-hot knife stabbed his heart, pierced it so hard and deep that the blade became visible on the other side of the beating muscle.

It had taken him nearly a decade to get used to this. He never showed it to anyone, never let anyone know that this was secretly his worst nightmare, how much he just wished for Finland to shock him like that.

"Nothin' was the sam' without ya. I acted like I always do, ja, but it was without meanin'. I did it because I had t', it was not because I wanted t', as it was when ya were here. I only did things 'cause they were necessary." Sweden was far from as expressive and good to talk about his emotions as Finland but he had never been saying these kinds of things to him. Not even when having declared his love for the smaller man had he been this deep.

"I missed ya every single day. Not once did a day pass without me thinkin' of what ya would have said to this or reacted to that. I yearned t' show ya things Peter did and things Peter learned. I wanted ya t' see everything we did, the fun we had."

Finland started to shake even more and his breathing became quicker.

"I wanted t' see ya every single day. I wanted t' hold ya when ya were col' and I wanted to comfort ya when Den was an idiot and made ya nervous and scared." And he had been unable to. "Ya have always been my everythin' and now that ya were gone, I didn't know how t' deal with 't. I tried t' go on as always, like ya were just on a long vacation but..." He had been unable to. There was nothing that could make him optimistic about Finland and Tino's return.

Then it changed and where his voice had former been full of actual emotions and actual sadness, it now turned warm and he hugged the small Finn even closer, burying his face in the other's shoulder, feeling a slight shaking sneak into his own body.

"But even if ya were gone, ya brought me happiness. The memories I have with ya are the best I hav' and I used 'em for whenever I felt somethin' like sadness," which had been surprisingly often, "and it helped. Not as much as your presence would have, 'course, but it was better than black nothingness."

He felt his shoulder become wet again after the tears of the Finn having stopped, but now started flowing once more. Small and thin arms were taken around his wide back and held him tightly while sobs broke through the great defence, finally gaining the upper hand and causing Finland to shake and tremble in Sweden's strong and mighty arms.

"You... you loved me, e-even in death, didn't yo-yo-you?" he whispered, voice cracking a few times so he had tostart over. Sweden nodded.

"Mh. I've always loved ya and I always will."

A new silence followed, in which Sweden simply held the Finn, and Finland held the Swede, both hugging equally tightly, as if to make sure neither of them would leave. Sweden could easily feel the smaller man's heart hammer for full power, as if he was running a marathon.

A thought occurred to him. How was Tino's health right now? Was he still sick or was he coming back to normal? His big and broad hands wandered over the other's back, fingers spreading out so he could feel as much of that small and strangely well-known, yet unfamiliar body as possible. The bones poked out for Sweden to feel and he carefully let his bare fingertips run over and make out every line and every bone he could feel.

"Tino," he mumbled and inhaled Finland's smell, the scent of fresh snow and a slight hint of vodka, mixed with a soft whiff of gun powder and weapons, all of it having a vague undertone of hot saunas. It was a nice mix and made out Finland's wonderful scent that Sweden would never get tired of smelling. "How are ya feelin'?"

Finland stiffened a bit in his grip before relaxing and pulling away the slightest bit, just enough for them to lock eyes. The Swede opened his own, curious and almost unnervingly warm royal-blue meeting confused but happy amethysts that shone so clearly, nearly making Sweden's heart skip a beat.

"I'm feeling," the other started, sounding hesitant, yet with a smile on his face, "like shit. My body is sore and my head is aching, I can feel my heart beat too fast, given that I'm doing about nothing, and I'm still confused about what has happened. But..." He made a short stop, closing his eyes, letting the smile get a deeper and stronger effect on the Swede. "I'm happy. I'm happier than I have been for a long time. I can't remember having been this warm inside and I can't remember having been so happy to see you as I was when I heard you by my grave."

This time, Sweden's heart skipped several beats and he knew it was visible on his face, knew that the sudden pain in his chest showed in his eyes.

"Berwald," the Finn whispered and carefully let a shaking hand find the Swede's cheek, eliciting a small twitch from him before he closed his eyes and put his own giant hand atop of his, "why do you fear to long for my love?" He said it with a strange voice and tone, making it sound like something that could be from a song.

At first, there was no reaction from the former Viking. He sat completely still before the chair in which his love was sitting. His eyes stared at the man, seeking for a sign that he was playing some kind of trick on him. But he knew Finland and knew that the man wouldn't toy with his feelings. Finland was way too kind for that.

Then he closed his eyes again, lips twitching ever so lightly in what could be called a smile.

"I don't fear. I know that ya will never reciprocate my feelings lik' that. But I don't need that, either. Just having ya here is enough for me." But he couldn't deny an unfamiliar and slightly scary feeling creep into his body and soul, like the air around them was changing. The aura was somehow starting to change and it caused goose bumps to cover his skin, making it tingle ever so lightly. His eyes slowly opened. "I... maybe I am afraid. Afraid t' hurt ya somehow. Ya know I won't demand anythin' from ya but if ya thought that I wanted ya t' love me, I thought ya'd leave me. And I... I wouldn't be able t' stand that." If you left me I would break all over again.

"Then stop fearing," Finland whispered and brought another hand to the other cheek, gently and carefully grabbing the bigger man's face between his cold, thin and shaking hands. He was very sure Sweden was able to hear his heart. Very sure that Sweden was able to tell how nervous he was. Was this... really the right thingto do? Was it the right time? Would Sweden believe it a hoax, a trick? What if Sweden thought it a wonderful but cruel dream and wouldn't answer him?

But all that Sweden could hear and see was his precious Tino struggling to say something. He could feel the thin and warm fingertips on his cheeks, one of them brushing over his skin every other second. A comfortable and assuring movement that caused Sweden to both calm down and become anxious at the same time, a highly peculiar sensation. He could see nervousness in the other's face, as well, and a weak blush that covered the area from his left cheek, went over the small nose and to the right cheek, making it look so very soft and so very fragile.

"I had time to think. I could have thought of plenty of things, could have used the time to figure out how I could come back. My thoughts could have wandered to Denmark and what an idiot he is, how I wanted to punish him for everything he has done. I could have figured out why we live, why each country has a personification and why we are as we are. Had I been clever, I could have figured out the meaning of life for humans. Instead..." His voice had gotten even more hushed and he slowly brought them closer together.

Sweden was not sure if his heart was beating so fast it was not noticeable or if it had simply stopped. Finland... he was so close. And his face was shining, emotions so obviously presenting themselves in every feature, his eyes nearly brimming over.

"I only thought of you. You were everything I could think of. Everything you have done for me, for Peter, never thinking about yourself. You were always so kind to me and you never made a wrong move. People say you are scary as hell and they are not entirely wrong," he made room for a small smile, "but if they would only give you time and try to understand you... then they would find something precious and something so completely different from what you are on the outside."

Their lips were mere centimetres from each other and though Sweden knew what this often led to he couldn't believe it. He was confused and he was wary at the same time, ready to dodge if needed. He had never been... kissing... anyone and it had always seemed so unlikely he would ever get the chance to. He only loved Finland and would only give him his kisses, his passionate touches and his warm care that none believed him to hold.

And yet, there was something in the air. There was something in the other's face that he was afraid to try and decipher, afraid to get the wrong result and having himself feel something like this for nothing. His own breathing was quicker than usual and he could feel his arms shake more than before as they were still wrapped around his Tino.

"Berwald Oxenstierna," Finland whispered, his hot breath gently brushing Sweden's ever so lightly parted lips, making his mind go momentarily blank. Finland used his human name, his first name and his last name. Yet, even with these so clear signs, Sweden couldn't bring himself to believe his biggest wish about to be fulfilled. "Will you marry me?"

His breath hitched and his eyes opened wide, staring at the Finn and even if he suddenly felt so many things at once that he didn't know if all of them had a name, he wasn't sure if anything was showed on his face or in his eyes. He could see that Finland was blushing deeply, his face having the colour of one of Spain's prized tomatoes but he... he didn't look embarrassed. He looked nearly proud, the beautiful violet diamonds glistening with emotions Sweden could only hope to show.

Somewhere in the house, a loud ringing noise was heard. Nothing was done. The sound continued and grew louder and still, nothing was done. In one room of the giant house, a dog was peacefully sleeping, small paws under her head as she made small sounds, occasionally a nearly inaudible yap before she growled faintly, legs kicking out as if she was running.

In the living room, Finland sat and waited for Sweden's answer, growing more and more nervous as time seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. It had to have been minutes since he had asked and Sweden still hadn't given an answer. Was... had he been wrong all the time? Was it too much, had he been too fast with asking this? But Sweden loved him, right, and he...

"S-Say it again?" the bigger of them then asked, nothing more than a breathy and almost silent whisper. They were still so close, he could move a couple of centimetres forward and he would press his own lips against the beautiful man in front of him.

And Finland cracked a wide smile, tears welling up in his eyes as his mouth moved again and his tongue formed the words once more.

"Berwald Oxenstierna, will you marry me?"

He hadn't heard wrong. Finland really had said those words. And there could be no doubt about Sweden's answer to it. It was everything he had ever dreamt of, his only true wish. It was what he had always yearned for, yet never dared to believe would ever happen. Because he had never thought Finland to reciprocate his feelings. Yet, it had seemed thatsomething had changed during the four centuries Finland had not been a country and Tino had been a dead body deep in the ground.

The Swede's eyes momentarily flickered to the lips so close to his own, then back up at Finland who still waited for an answer. 'But he really doesn't have to wait,' Sweden thought, before he made the movement he would declare as the most drastic he had ever made.

Slowly, so very slowly and with a body quivering so much it was impressive he didn't miss, he leaned forward and gently, too gently for a man like him, connected their lips in a feathery kiss that could as well have been an accident.

It took just that much to make his mind go blank and it was only sub-consciously that he felt Finland freeze, the arms around him becoming stiff, and he was already pulling away again, already beginning to figure out if there was any way at all he could ever make this up for the other. He had wronged him and he had made him feel uncomfortable, he was sure of it, and he was a demon, he had dared to take advantage of sweet, little and innocent Finland like that. What kind of man was he?

But before he got as far as to break the kiss, though, he felt Finland become soft and warm like butter left out for too long, and he felt the soft and thin hands become slightly demanding when he pulled Sweden closer.

Sweden was sure it was only a dream, that this was only his mind playing a desperate trick on him to make him go mad and become like their Eastern neighbour but... it was so real. It was like he had always imagined.

Finland's lips were so soft, hesitant and warm. The stinging and burning taste of vodka was still on them and Sweden could feel them quiver as much as his own body, yet there was a security to them that made his mind soar before drifting away, leavinghim alone and on his own with a body way too able to harm whoever he wanted to.

This wasn't what happened, though. Instead of turning violent and aggressive like he had always thought he would if this ever happened, he closed his eyes and felt the butterflies whirl around in his stomach, his body becoming alive once more as his arms held Finland closer. Their lips moved together, slowly, carefully, testing out new ground that one of them had always wanted to taste, the other formerly too scared to.

Even if their kiss was so soft and so feathery, close to not really there, they broke away to get air into their lungs. Finland looked at Sweden through half-lidded eyes while Sweden's were fully open and he could literally _feel_the emotions his blue orbs were showing to the other.

"Yes. Yes, I will," he whispered, every word being followed by a pause for air as he was nearly empty of the vital oxygen after the kiss. It still lingered on his lips, he could still feel them on his own and he wanted more. Never before had he wanted something so much as he now wanted another taste of those lips that were as made for him and for him only.

The tears in Finland's eyes finally fell and he gave a loud sob and a soft cry before pulling the Swede closer, hugging him too tightly for a man his size. Sweden didn't hesitate for a second to do the same, arms wrapping firmer around the other, burying his face in the smaller man's shoulder while feeling his eyes sting painfully much, knowing that tears were on their way.

The ringing came back but once more, none of them reacted to it as both of them cried of happiness. Finland was very expressive about it, sobs and sounds escaping him and his body shaking so incredibly much. Sweden was more silent, his tears rolling over his cheeks without a sound leaving his parted lips as he pressed himself closer to the small Finn. But his body was trembling at least as much as the other's, if not more.

Finland was the one to break the hug after what felt like an hour. He broke it in a way that only made Sweden even happier, though, his mind flying away once more and leaving him to face complete, white bliss. The fingertips ran through the Swede's hair, brushed his cheeks and made him turn his head ever so slightly, looking at Finland with eyes showing too many emotions for him.

"Maybe... again?" he mumbled and the blush turned even deeper but there was a shaking and a roughness to his voice that Sweden knew all too well.

He smiled. Sweden made his lips curl lightly, made them form a smile full of warmth and passion he had always denied himself to show to anyone but this very man.

"However many times you want to," he answered and didn't pay attention to the heat his face radiated, knowing fully well that he was blushing, too. Far from as much as Finland but enough to shock anyone else that might cast a glance at him.

And this time, when he connected their lips, a hand was holding the smaller man's chin so softly and carefully, as if still afraid to break him, and once more, it was like liquid fire was running in his veins and causing his skin to burn, his throat to narrow and his chest to tighten painfully, the heart beating unevenly, trying to keep up with the amount of adrenaline that suddenly flowed along with the blood.

A sound escaped Finland but it was not one of fear or anxiety as it usually had been. It was nothing like nervousness or wanting to get away. It was one of complete and utter passion and devotion. His shoulders fell a bit and his arms seemed to lose strength as they moved down and away from Sweden's body.

Without letting their lips part for even the briefest second, Sweden slowly got to his feet and made them both turn a bit, hands going for the table to keep his balance as he found his legs not responding the way he wanted them to. They trembled and quivered so much that he feared he would fall without something to support himself against. And Finland was not strong enough for that. His fingers pushed the plate and bottle away, causing the latter to tip over and roll over the table, ending on the floor with a high, crashing noise that none of them seemed to notice.

The Swede was standing at this point, his giant body leant forward to keep the precious contact with Tino, their lips moving more passionately, more wildly and with more feeling to it than either of them had ever thought the other could show in this situation. There was slight panting and groaning, the need for air growing painfully fast and demanding but none of them wanted to part just yet. It was still too fantastic, it was still a dream coming true; none of them wanted it to end.

"B-Berwald," the Finn gasped between them as he felt himself being forced backwards, his back scraping against the table, Sweden's body pressed so close to his. They could feel each other's fierce heart beat and they could both feel their blood boil in their veins. Sweden simply grunted as he rested himself on an elbow, the other arm holding Finland closer to him, lips becoming more demanding as he lost himself more and more, his consciousness slowly dwindling and giving room for the only way he knew to take someone:

With power, force and violence.

Finland made a sound that was a mix between a moan and a gasp as Sweden tilted his head lightly, granting both better access to the other and giving it a whole new sensation, deepening it to a degree where not even Sweden could keep quiet and contain his lust.

"Tino," he whispered, voice rough as sandpaper and his hand was sent into the table, clenching to a fist so he would not do things he would regret later. "Tino, I'm so sorry..."

"D-Don't apologize," the other breathed out weakly, one of his hands starting to tug at Sweden's hair to get him closer, silently but clearly begging him to do more. The Swede shivered violently and was about to comply, his lips wrestling Finland's apart - though there wasn't much of a fight - when a door was suddenly slammed wide open, the sound resounding in the entire house. Neither of the men seemed to notice, though, before a loud yelp, a _crash _and then a howl was heard from the kitchen from which you could see into the living room.

"Ber! What the hell are you- Oh." Sweden looked up. 'You've got to be fucking kidding me,' he thought to himself but it was no joke.

Denmark was standing in the kitchen, his cheek bleeding from a very fresh cut. Norway was standing beside him and had a firm hand intertwined in his wild hair.

"Sorry to bother, Swe," the Norwegian mumbled, his face showing about the same as Sweden's normally would. "Den was getting anxious when you didn't answer the phone. Seems we now know why. We'll leave again."

"What?! Fandeme nej!" Denmark howled and swatted the other Nordic away whereupon he planted both hands on the counter, staring at the impossible sight before him.

Sweden and Finland were as they had been before they had been interrupted; Finland pressed against the table and Sweden more or less lying on top of him, their bodies close and both of their faces showing emotions none would ever believe them to.

Yet, something was developing in both pair of eyes. It was clearer in Sweden's but even Finland's violet diamonds started to show immense anger; something you would rarely see in those gentle and ever-sweet orbs. Lust and arousal were still present in his eyes but hatred deeper than he had ever felt quickly build.

"Denmark," he whispered and though it was hushed it was still very audible. He gently pushed Sweden away, the bigger man too angry and too unfamiliar with this kind of situation to know what to do. "Piss off. I don't care why you're here, just get the fuck out of Swe's house. Right. Now."

"Oi oi, what's the matter? The hell was he doing to you? He wasn't molesting you, was he?" Denmark instantly sounded suspicious and he wiped away some blood from his cheek before bending down and grabbing his axe, becoming visible again.

"You're the only one who's molesting people here," the Finn snarled and showed a more fierce and angry side of himself than they had formerly seen. "I said; get out."

As if his words had had an actual effect, Denmark was suddenly lifted up into the air - seemingly without anyone even touching him, even if Norway looked a bit _too_nonchalant - and he was thrown head first out of the house. Norway quickly followed suit but turned when he reached the door frame, looking back at the two Nordics still by the table. Sweden was standing very still behind the Finn, utterly confused and still trying to grasp what had been happening; his mind had been completely elsewhere. Finland had crossed his arms over his chest and sent a threatening look at the Norwegian.

"Careful not to break anything," the man simply said before moving out of the house, closing the door softly behind him. Sweden and Finland could both hear how he gave Denmark a thorough scolding, yelling and shouting like there was no tomorrow, as soon as the door was closed.

They used a moment to stare at the entrance before Finland turned around and looked up at the Swede whose face was still shining with so incredibly deep hatred and lust at the same time. And even if Finland didn't look further down, it was very visible that Sweden was severely turned on.

Finland took his hand, smiling a devious smile, and started to walk through the house, up the stairs and into a dark room he knew too well and where everything stood exactly as he remembered it.

"Tino?" the Swede mumbled, feeling nervous and suddenly anxious about this all. What were they supposed to do now? They were a couple but... did couples do 'it' right away after having said 'yes' to each other...? "Tino, what are you-"

He was silenced by a forceful kiss that nearly sent him into the wooden planks of the floor.

"We can't break anything down here," the smaller man whispered to him and grinned mischievously before sealing their lips once more. Anger was forgotten again and it was only lust that clouded his mind and his eyes, only lust that surged through his body and made him moan lightly when Sweden continued exactly where they had left off when being interrupted.

"Independent thought deleted," Sweden murmured, eliciting a small chuckle from the Finn.

Nothing was broken that night, except maybe for Denmark's fondness for Finland.

* * *

**Ehehehe, it is done. Sorry it took this long, at one point I just lost all kind of inspiration and had to rewrite three pages before I could continue.**

Nåårh, Sverige = Well, Sweden (Danish)  
Ja = Yes (Swedish)  
Nej = No (Swedish)  
Hvad fanden = What the Hell (Danish)

Children of Bodom = Completely awesome Finnish band  
"Why do you fear to long for my love?" – A line from (Finnish) Sonata Arctica's song, "No dream can heal a broken heart" (I LOVE this song, go listen to it~)  
"Independent thought deleted" – Another line from the same song


	3. Long story long

**I'm back! Sorry for taking so long about this, I've had some bad days and a writer's block, ugh. **

**Thanks to ****DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D**

"I still don't get it."

Denmark was sitting by the end of the giant table Sweden had made two hundred and five years ago. His feet were lying on the surface and he seemed pretty comfortable, though the blond brows furrowed and gave him an expression of confusion.

He looked like himself. The hair was still spiky and blond as always, and after being hugged involuntarily, Finland could also confirm that the strands were as soft as they had always been. The face had maybe become a tiny bit thinner, bones had become visible just under the pale skin but it only made him look better. To contradict this fact that could witness of having been ill, his eyes shone even brighter and the colour seemed to have gotten stronger, somehow. It was like it had become deeper, friendlier. It was strange. The grin was as wide and devilish as Finland remembered and the laugh was still very obnoxious and loud. Denmark hadn't changed at all.

"What exactly don't you get?" Finland asked politely and reached a hand down for Hanatamago to lick. Her small and rough tongue happily licked all over it and smothered it with her saliva, her tail wagging eagerly as she did so. The Finn couldn't keep off a happy smile as he let her lick his hand, smothering it and making it sticky when she decided to bound off to somewhere else.

It turned out that Hanatamago had been very fast asleep and she hadn't heard or smelled the presence of Finland when he was carried home. There could be no doubt she would have come to them the moment the door was opened, though, if she had been awake. When she had seen Finland for the first time, there was no suspicion. She didn't growl at him or anything like what you heard dogs did towards people supposed to be dead.

She had been all over him, jumping up despite having learned she was not allowed to do that and she had been yapping and barking loudly, the tail wagging so much it nearly made her fall to the side. Her tongue had run over every piece of naked skin on the Finn's body and he had simply not been able to resist her, instead crouching down to pet her and ruffle her fur and she had only been happier. Actually so happy that she, despite her small size, had been able to tumble him to the floor and trotted all over his body and face while she was yapping and licking.

Finland had been smiling so widely and laughing so loudly that Sweden hadn't been able to find it in him to stop Hanatamago. She knew what she was doing was not allowed but Sweden doubted she would obey or even listen if he told her to stop. And really, she was just happy to see Finland once more. He had been gone for so long and even she had missed him deeply.

She was still the happy and yapping dog she had always been and whenever Denmark had been over, she would bark at him and occasionally nip at his ankles - Sweden claimed it wasn't true and that he never saw it when Denmark complained - and she would still wag her tail whenever Sweden and Sealand got home and wanted to play with her.

She would wait excitedly by the door for Sweden and Sealand to return after having been out for whatever reason. She would still run around and play with other dogs when they took her for a walk and she would still show her playful nature.

But it was always less than before. Before Finland had left she had been like a bomb of energy that never dampened. It would only disappear after several hours of playing or running and she would always use every single bit and piece of energy before she went to sleep. And the place didn't matter. She slept where she fell.  
Her yapping wasn't as loud and happy - as happy as a dog's yapping could be, of course - as before and she didn't do it as much, either. Every day, she would be sniffing around by the couch and the furniture in general, seeking for the small man who always talked to her and pet her and played with her. When she never found him, she would whine lowly before trotting back to her place beside the fire and she would fake a sleep, though her eyes would occasionally open and seek the nearby surroundings for the presence of that kind man. The ears always hung sadly and you could see the sadness in her dark eyes. The pain was nearly clear enough to be felt physically. Like it bored into your soul.

It pained Sweden to see this. Every time he saw it, he never said anything and he never said to Hanatamago that Finland was gone forever. He knew she wouldn't understand and he knew that it wouldn't change anything. He knew it would only bring him so much more pain to say it out loud so he just didn't. Sealand had seen it, too. But where Sweden was sad and felt immense pain in his silent heart, Peter tried to take it cool. He knew about death and he knew that the dead couldn't come back to life.

He knew that Finland would probably never come back.

Bu that didn't mean he had wanted to believe it.

"I mean, you've been dead for over four hundred years and there have been no signs whatsoever about your return. How the hell did it happen, and why?" the Dane asked with a curious voice, looking under the table to find the small dog. The animal found him as well and for once trotted over to him and gave his hand a quick lick before pushing its little head into his hand, allowing - more like begging - him to pet it. And so he did. It was rare that Hanatamago allowed him to touch her without being torn to shreds so he used every opportunity he got.

"Ah. For once it's not something simple you don't get," Finland said with a small smirk on his lips, earning a sound from Sweden that could be called a snort. Denmark threw a napkin at his face.

"It seems it's because of some of my people. A group of people who identified themselves as Finns apparently went to the Swedish government," the Finn looked over at Sweden who gave a single nod, "and begged them to do something. They wanted their country back, they wanted to go home."

"And you didn't do anything?" Denmark sent an accusatory look at Sweden who sent back a cold and indifferent one. How could one be so stupid? He thought he knew the limits of Denmark's idiocy but he had clearly been wrong. The cold and icy blue orbs bored into the Dane's face, partly hoping it would create a hole through the man's head.

"Don' be an idiot, even if that is what ya do the best. 'Course I tried. I argued with my boss for weeks 'bout it but nothin' helped and nothin' happened. The group return'd to their houses at Russia's place and didn't come back." That had hurt. To know that there were still Finns who wanted Finland back and that the Swedish government said they could do nothing to help. But as much as it had hurt, it had also angered him immensely.

That small group - they hadn't been more than twenty people - had been collecting signatures from people around the world who wanted the country of Finland to return. They had managed to gather some hundred million signatures before meeting with Sweden, his boss and government. As the representative of Sweden, Berwald hadn't been allowed to make a decision. He had to follow his boss and what his government thought as the best.

His boss had told the group that this was not Sweden's affairs or decision. Sweden didn't have the power to make Finland a country once more. It was something they would have to debate with the entire world. At that statement, Berwald had opened his mouth for the first time in the three hours the meeting had lasted. He said that he would arrange such a meeting and though it had been a lot of trouble, he had managed to do it.

And so, a month after the visit in Sweden, the group once more got together, this time in Berlin, Germany. The rest of the nations had been there, some curious, some resigned. Many of them saw this meeting as one of Berwald's desperate attempts to get his wife back and nearly all of them looked like they had already decided what they would vote.

But seeing the group of Finns and their many signatures, some of the nations changed their minds. For days, the humans had been given lodging at a nearby hotel while the debate raged. Berwald was silently immensely relieved that these humans were very clever and had brilliant arguments and ideas for bringing Finland back.

This meeting had been one of the few where Sweden actually bothered to open his mouth and try to make himself understandable. He loved to argue and debate and even if the topic made him feel emotions and got his blood to rush a bit faster than normally, he continued. Whenever anyone spoke to him, he never broke off eye-contact and he answered all of the questions shot at him, save for the private ones coming from Denmark, France and Prussia. Questions like 'Ever gotten off to the thought of Finny?' and 'How many times did he top?'

The questions were, of course, highly inappropriate. Not only because they brought the nations' secret in danger, that all of these men and women were in fact representations of a country. Not only because none should ask Sweden such things. Most of all, they were inappropriate because Finland was no more, because Tino had been buried a long time ago. Sweden couldn't believe that they could make themselves ask such things when they knew what Finland had meant to him.

But maybe they hadn't known exactly? Did they even have a clue? Any idea at all how everything Finland had done had made Sweden's heart race, that the smallest smile directed at him had forced his heart to set an unhealthy pace because it was a smile _just for him_? Did Denmark or France or Prussia know how Finland had made him feel? Did any of those fools have the slightest hint of knowledge about the way Sweden would care for Finland when he felt down, when he froze, when he was angry, when he was drunk - which only happened about once or twice a year - or when he simply felt a need for comfort?

Finland had normally never sought for his comfort, had always been too scared of him. It had seemed completely nuts to seek for comfort and safety from the biggest and scariest man he had ever seen but sometimes, when Hanatamago, Sealand or his beloved snow-covered nature or his dear reindeers couldn't cheer him up or make him feel good again, he would go to Sweden. Shaking with fear, yes, and shaking with discomfort, yes, but as soon as he found himself in Sweden's arms and found himself be gently squeezed in the grip, he would also find himself slowly begin to relax.

And as he relaxed more and more, he would also find himself in a feeling of safety, of comfort and of appreciation. It never lasted for long, though. The few minutes where the anger dwindled to make room for relaxation and comfort, it grew silently and unnoticed until it broke free and crept into every pore of his skin, making him yelp and instantly push away from the Swede, not daring to look at him when he dashed away while blabbering out apologies and promises of never being so silly and weak again.

Sweden would just stare after him, face blank but mind and heart racing, wishing for nothing more than Finland returning and find his place in his arms again. That was there he belonged, Sweden thought as he went back to his work.

He waited for the meeting to be over before he walked over to the perverted men and hit their heads together with a sound that resonated throughout the room before letting them lie unconscious on the floor, earning shocked looks from the few nations that had seen him do it. On the inside, he had been burning up with anger and fury for the three men on the floor. The fact that they had _dared_ to ask that kind of questions when he was here! That they had the audacity to _think_he would find the questions appropriate, let alone answer them. In fact, he had wanted to bury them in the cold snow in his country, waiting for them to show up again, covered in the freezing substance and meet his face that wouldn't have revealed a thing despite the anger raging behind the expression that wasn't present.

On the outside, he had showed absolutely nothing. He had knocked out the two nations and the ex-nation without as much as a blink of an eye, not a single hint of emotion being showed on his face, only making it all seem that much more scary.

Probably needless to say, they hadn't agreed on anything after nearly a week and therefore decided to stop, much to Sweden's and the Finns' anger, though only the humans showed it. Sweden acted polite and thanked the other nations for their time while he was dying on the inside, his heart once more finding its place around his stomach where it seemed to have camped while Finland was not around. He also thanked the humans for their determination and told them to never stop believing, because he certainly wouldn't. It was done with few words, of course, and a blank face that had them nearly cower back in fear. They seemed surprised by the words, though, and they nodded slowly to him whereupon he turned around and marched out of the room.

"Took another hundred years before somethin' happened. Got a new king who had many relatives descendin' from Finland from the time when it was a country. At first, I thought it wou'd now be easy to get Tino back but it didn't go like that. Even if he had relatives descendin' from Finland, he didn't agree with me on the idea."

Berwald had been so very angry and so very frustrated. If not even a man with so many relatives from Finland wanted to get the country official again, then how the hell was it supposed to happen? One thing was sure; Sweden would never really stop trying. He might be silent about it and never say a word about it when around his boss and government - or the other nations - but he never stopped trying. His hope, though, was a different case. As decades went by and turned to centuries, the hope in his chest had slowly dwindled and was almost choked.

Until it had happened. He had found Tino by the grave and he hadn't understood anything. His boss didn't seem to like the idea of bringing Finland back and his government was the same. So why in the world was he here...?

"Turned out my government and king had finally agreed on bringin' Finland back that very day, actually only few hours before I found him." Which had explained why Tino had been so thin and shaking. He was still 'new' if you could put it like that.

Finland nodded once before Sealand turned in his 'mother's lap and spoke. He might have grown pretty much and he might not be exactly a child anymore but he still liked to sit in Finland's lap when he was allowed to. Maybe he associated it with the time before Finland's death?

"You know, mama," he began, signalizing that he had indeed grown, not only in size but also in mentality, "I'm very happy you are back. I missed you a lot."

But he was certainly not too old to call Finland 'mama'. The others vaguely wondered when this would happen.

Unlike the others, Sealand had changed a lot. He had grown much taller and his hair had adopted a dark shine. The eyebrows, that had been bigger than the usual person's already before Finland died, had grown even bigger and bushier, making it clear that he was England's brother. His big and blue eyes had gotten the same deep shine as Denmark's and made him look more serious, though it was easy to tell that this wasn't quite the case.

At first, Finland's face fell into a sad expression before it was lit by the warmth that was also in the smaller boy's words. He then hugged him tighter.

"I'm sorry for leaving, Peter," he said and placed a kiss on the top of the blond head. His violet eyes were closed peacefully and after the kiss, he let his head rest on the smaller one, looking at Denmark across the table.

"It's okay. You're back now, right?"

Finland hummed lightly. But of course it wasn't okay to leave, even if it wasn't his fault.

Norway was sitting on his right side on the long side of the table and Iceland was sitting between Norway and Sweden. On Sweden's left side sat Finland, sitting between the two arch-enemies so they wouldn't kill each other. Not that they hadn't tried. In Finland's lap was Sealand who was surprisingly quiet until he had talked. Hanatamago was on the floor, running from man to man to get attention.

Finland had set the table with different kinds of food, snacks and drinks. Denmark had announced his arrival just around noon and as both Finland and Sweden had predicted, he arrived an hour later. With him was Norway and Iceland who didn't seem too happy though they were very curious.

Iceland hadn't really changed a lot, either. His hair had grown a tad longer and his eyes had gotten a harder shine as well as a hint of violet and green that mingled with the blue, giving it a highly peculiar colour. The face was serious as it had always been and the only thing that seemed different was the jaw that was slightly more lined and heavier marked.

"Now," Finland said and let Sealand down from his lap, watching him run around with Hanatamago for a moment before turning his head back to Denmark who had grabbed a hand full of grapes and demanded Norway to feed him. The Norwegian flat-out declinedit and instead focused on the Finn as he spoke.

Norway looked exactly like himself. Nothing had changed in him. Even his curl still flowed somewhere by his neck, free of his actual body. The eyes were still dull and lacking depth like Denmark's did. The hairpin was attached to the rebellious strands of hair by his left ear, keeping them in place.

"You and Nor were as kind as to disturb Ber and me the day I came back. Care to tell why?"

"'Course," Denmark grinned and resorted to feed himself the grapes. "It was in the telly. Said that Sweden merged with Finland only hours after Finland's comeback. At first, when they announced that Finland was back, I called Swe but he didn't answer. Then they talked about that merging-thing and I decided it might be the best to check up on you two. Might be Swe had gotten a heart-attack or something." He winked to the Finn who blushed deeply and dropped his fork onto the plate with a loud, clattering noise that got Hanatamago to stop playing for a second, looking over at her owner to see if he was okay. She then continued playing with Sealand who looked like he really didn't want to hear those kinds of things. Sweden, though, was completely cool about it and simply made a comeback of his own.

"If ya knew what happen'd, ya would hav' been the one sufferin' from a heart-attack," he said with a completely blank face, only making Finland blush even deeper and hide his face in his hands. Even his ears got red.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by what he had done. He was just very surprised afterwards - he had never thought he would do such a thing, and not at all to Sweden! - and whenever it was mentioned - which was only when Denmark was around - he would blush. It was just a reaction, he couldn't help it.

Denmark nearly choked on a mouthful of beer, making him cough for close to a minute. He pushed back and away from the table, leaning forward a bit and hammered on his chest to get his breathing under control. When he raised his head again, his face was bright red and his shoulders were trembling slightly from the violent coughing. He wiped away a few tears from his eyes, then directed his gaze at Sweden, letting it slide to Finland, then back, as if trying to figure out if the bigger man was lying.

"Oh," he choked out, hitting his chest once more and denying Norway's 'help' with the gesture of a hand. By the time they had been partners, he knew better than to allow Norway to help him with these kinds of things. "I-I see. Is it then... safe to assume that little Finny is no longer… little and innocent?" The smirk quickly returned to his reddened face and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking triumphant. Norway's face was as blank as Sweden's when he directed his gaze at the two nations by his side. He was silently wondering if that could really be true, even if he couldn't care less. What Sweden and Finland did or didn't do together was their case and there was no need for Denmark to put his nose into it.

Yet the Norwegian didn't stop him. If he was lucky, this conversation would soon earn Denmark a couple of punches. Something he only deserved.

His words, though, got Finland to finally react in another way than blushing and hiding. He looked up and stared directly into Denmark's eyes, his violet orbs suddenly hard and slightly annoyed.

"Den, I'm not as 'innocent' as you may think I am. There is a damn _reason_that I was the one to... to initiate it." But his words lost power as he was still blushing and he made a small break. It was true, though. Finland had been the one to start the love-making the day he had asked Sweden to marry him.

The thought still got his stomach to do a back-flip. He was going to marry Sweden. It seemed so... magical. For centuries he had been scared of the man and he had never thought he would maybe get closer than good friends. Finland would never in his life have thought he would be asking for the man's hand in marriage, it had simply never occurred to him. Sweden had been a friend, that was all. The Finn had never believed it to evolve into something more.

And yet, that was the case. Just a week ago, he had sat by the other end of the table, shaking all over and feeling like shit, and he had still been asking Sweden to marry him. It seemed so unreal, yet so fantastic. He could feel butterflies flap around in his stomach by the mere thought of it.

Denmark howled with laughter.

"No way! Don't tell me _you_were the one to jump ol' grumpy Rockface!"

"I didn't _jump_him!"

The Dane rolled his eyes, still chuckling. Clearly, it didn't matter to him if Finland had been jumping or humping or whatever. It was the fact that Finland apparently had taken control.

"Fine, whatever you say. But seriously, Swe? Did Finny really to-"

He was cut off by a knife flying past his ear, only half a centimetre from cutting into it. Denmark stared at Finland, shock building in his eyes while Norway simply raised an eyebrow to show what he thought about Finland's throw. Iceland sat with a bucket of Coke and looked from person to person, looking unimpressed. Sealand and Hanatamago had gone outside to play.

"Be glad my aim is so good, Den. I could easily have cut off your ear. Though that would probably only have made you prettier." He earned himself another snort from Sweden and Norway's lips twitched in something that was almost a smile.

"He's got a point," he stated and dodged a napkin thrown at him, his face once more as completely and utterly expressionless and blank as it always was. The blue eyes seemed dull as they rested on the Dane's face, observing the annoyance quickly lining every feature on the tall blonde's face.

"Don't you dare take his side!" Denmark growled and looked genuinely annoyed. "I was just asking a question!"

"But that kind of question is not on the list of questions I had planned to answer when you said you would come over!"

"You should have, though," the Norwegian commented and crossed his arms over his chest, looking directly at Finland, "when you know what kind of person Den is."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Finland sighed lightly before pushing away from the table and stood from his chair, starting to gather their plates with calm and steady movements of his hands. The limbs were still smaller and much thinner than Sweden liked despite having fed his dear wife the best and most nutritious food he could think of, always making sure some kind of dessert followed. Finland would sometimes tease the Swede about spoiling him and being too kind but in all honesty, he didn't mind it one bit.

He got to eat Sweden's food and though the man had things Finland categorically refused to eat - surströmming was one of those - he was generally a great cook. Besides, whenever Sweden was in the kitchen, he would always wear an apron. It wasn't something that affected Finland in any way, he didn't find it sexually arousing, but it was just hilarious to watch a giant man like Sweden in something so feminine.

Once, it had made Finland vaguely wonder how the Swede would look in a wedding dress. The thought had been both incredibly ridiculous and somewhat interesting and the sound Finland let pass his lips by the mental picture made the man in question turn around, skillet in one hand and palette knife in the other. He hadn't said anything, the slightly questioning gaze being enough to make Finland explain. Berwald's answer had been 'Und'r no circumstances. You're m' wife so ya will wear the dress,' whereupon he had returned to watch his cooking, like telling a man to wear the wedding dress was the most normal thing in the world.

And though it must seem weird to everyone else, Finland didn't really mind the thought of being in a wedding dress. It would only be for a day, anyway, he could cope with the... unmanly-ness he would radiate. And if a certain Dane would venture to question his manliness, a certain Finn would simply remind the other exactly who invented flaming alcohol-bombs and exactly who nearly beat the shit out of Russia by shooting and skiing - at the same time.

Finland was a lot tougher than he appeared. He could consume amounts of alcohol a man his size shouldn't be able to and when drunk enough, he had two personalities; either raging mad and violent or extremely affectionate. Therefore, he was very careful about who he got drunk with. The drinking contests with Denmark didn't really count; Denmark always passed out before Finland was just barely tipsy.

At one point in time, Finland had actually thought about challenging Russia or Latvia but by second thought - and after Sweden's repeatedly words not to do so - he abandoned the thought and settled with drinking Denmark senseless.

Standing in the kitchen and cleaning the plates, he could hear Norway and Denmark continue their bickering in the living room and they were starting to be too loud. Especially the Dane's obnoxious and vociferous personality cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere.

As Finland's hands grabbed the sponge and quickly cleaned off the dishes he could hear the language turn from English into their own languages, Denmark shouting in rough and sharp Danish while Norway responded in his softer and more singing tongue. This was a clear sign that something needed to happen and someone had to get them apart before things got out of control. You never knew what that could result in as they had both been Vikings and still had the ferocious and merciless nature very much intact.

There had been one time where Finland had watched the Norwegian and the Dane fight with the fists and it had - too - quickly turned into something _completely_different. Sweden had been the one to cut off the fight - now more like rough foreplay - and kick Denmark out of the house, even if they were at his place, whereupon he had made Finland calm down. Only then had he directed his gaze at the Norwegian who was still standing by the wall Denmark had pressed him against. He was shaking and the otherwise stoic and blank face held a peculiar expression that neither Finland nor Sweden had liked to voice. The small man had stormed off and away about a minute later when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

They heard the man's car start, then the wheels screech against the asphalt before the vehicle drove away, probably way too fast. Minutes later, while Finland still had his hand over his mouth and eyes wide as saucers, they had heard a soft knock on the door whereupon Denmark opened it and demanded them out.

There had been a hard shine in his eyes that clearly indicated it would unwise to rebel against him right now. So Sweden and Finland simply followed suit, despite the Swede sending his archenemy a look slightly less hard than normally. Upon closing the door, they heard the lock turn and it was clear they wouldn't hear from him in a few days.

"Denny," the Finn said loudly from the kitchen, for a moment silencing the beginning fight in the living room. But even if it was only for a moment, it was a moment long enough for him to continue. "Could you check up on Peter and Hana for me? And Nor, get over here, Swe wants to talk to you."

The last part wasn't really true but it all worked out. Denmark left the living room while he continued to grumble in his own language until he was outside. Norway moved into the kitchen to find Sweden messing around with stuff in the fridge. The smaller blonde's face was slightly redder than usual, only working as a proof that Finland had been right. Norway rarely got colour in his pale cheeks but when it happened, you could be sure it was because of Denmark.

"You called?" he said, voice plain and unmarked by the former event, fooling anyone else but the Nordics to believe he was unaffected, though his bright cheeks and eyes told a different story.

Finland looked over at the Swede, partly hoping he had something to come up with so they wouldn't have annoyed Norway without reason. You simply didn't do that.

"Mh," the bigger blond grunted before straightening again, eyes boring into the Norwegian's. "Kick Den's ass for me when ya get home, 'kay?" Their eyes were locked at each other for a while before the smaller man looked away, biting his lower lip while his hands clenched into fists. His body was shivering ever so lightly.

"Of course. What else would I do?" he mumbled before he gently nudged Finland aside to fill a glass with water.

* * *

As they were all seated again and Finland had decorated the table with countless cookies and cakes and other kinds of sweets, the talk went on. Sealand, cold and wrapped in a thick blanket, his cheeks bright red and hair wet from melted snow, was now sitting beside Denmark and Norway so that more fights wouldn't occur. In his hands was a big cup of steaming hot cocoa and he inhaled the scent greedily before blowing on it. It was still too hot to drink. Iceland was sitting onthe opposite side, quiet as always, with his glass – more like bucket - of Coke.

Denmark had been denied more beer and Finland knew it pained him to see the Finn to have a bottle of vodka by his plate. Sweden and Norway had opened a bottle of wine - much to the others' surprise - and they conversed across the table. As well as they could when none of them really talked a lot.

It was a long time since Finland and Sweden had given up on the 'no alcohol while Peter is present' policy. First of all, because Denmark was often around and when Denmark was around you had to have beer, whether you liked the idea or not. Otherwise, he would just bring his own. Secondly, because Finland had been caught in taking a swig of his beloved vodka before going out and enjoying his saunas. Sweden was never one to drink alcohol and when he did on those very rare occasions, he would settle with wine.

Finland had never seen Sweden drunk. He didn't know if he wanted to. If Sweden reacted to alcohol the same way he did, it could end very badly. Finland being mad and violent was bad enough but Sweden was much bigger and much stronger and no matter if he became violent or affectionate, the consequences could be fatal.

If this was the reason Sweden never drank anything stronger, Finland wasn't sure. He just knew that he was fine about it. As long as no one took his vodka.

Much to everyone's surprise, he was the one to shoot the Dane a question after having eaten a cookie and rinse it down with a mouthful of the clear liquid.

"Den," he started and instantly got the Dane's attention. The man had been looking at Sealand, smiling at him and talking with him, seemingly trying to ignore the fact that Norway and Sweden were conversing. "When you and Nor watched my resurrection in the television... did they mention anything about my... my lifespan? Did they say something about how long they believed me to... last... this time?"

The question was asked in a hushed voice and he was nearly mumbling, half-lidded amethysts focusing on the plate before him, as if he believed the other cookie - chunks of the best Swiss chocolate mixed into it - had the answer to his question.

He was... really worried about that. How long would he last this time? If he had first been dissolved, wouldn't he be more vulnerable than before? Wouldn't it be easier to... destroy him again? Would he remain alive from now on? And, his eyes darted to Sweden and his staring, unreadable face before moving to Sealand who was now munching on a cake, eyes directed at him, what about the others? What had the other nations been like? He knew nothing, hadn't been told anything about their reactions. He hadn't dared to ask Sweden, afraid that he would be too hurt by having to relive that memory.

Hanatamago yapped at him by his right side and he automatically reached down to pick her up and set her onto his lap. This was normally not allowed but on special occasions Finland would let her sit in his lap for a while.

He buried his thin and now shaking fingers in her fluffy fur, scratching her skin carefully, yet a bit absentmindedly. Nails scraped over the soft skin beneath the great amount of white and incredibly soft fur. Fingers intertwined in a few locks, curled them around the tips of his fingers as he spoke again.

"It's not, like, I'm afraid of... the same thing happening again." He could feel Sweden's stare intensify by close to a billion, could nearly even _feel_the way the blue eyes narrow the slightest bit. Norway had taken his glass of wine but hadn't drunk any of it yet. He was also looking at the Finn as the man seemed to creep closer into himself and the chair, further away from the rest.

He couldn't deny it, though. The thought of him dissolving again, the thought of his government and boss - when he got such once more - was still dwelling in the back of his head, just over the conscious part of his mind so he would constantly be reminded of it. It was very much possible, wasn't it? That something like this could happen once more...

He didn't want that. Finland didn't want to leave this place again, especially not since he was going to marry the man beside him. His eyes had found the small dog's face and the black, glistening pools stared directly up at him, the head tilted as if she wanted to ask him a question.

"But, you know... It's good to know if others have faith in me, right? If they believe me to be... good enough to survive this all. I mean, it's quite the experience for a country, right? To be dissolved, then re-enacted. Not even Prussia managed to do that, right? He was never established as a nation or kingdom again, he just kind of... sticks around. I don't... don't quite want to end like him."

His heart was beating faster and his chest was starting to ache with the pressure the beating muscle put upon it. Only vaguely did he notice how his breath had quickened, too, and that his fingers were clenching the soft fur of Hanatamago's body. She didn't utter a sound, though, simply stood on her hind legs and had her front paws on his chest as she slowly licked his chin. The rough tongue scraped over the skin and though it stung a bit it wasn't exactly uncomfortable. It was just her way of worrying for him. She just wanted him to be okay.

The sad expression on his face was nothing she was used to and though Finland doubted how much she knew about faces and expressions, he didn't doubt that she could sense his mood. He had never doubted that. Dogs were good at sensing your mood and they tried to react the best to it, tried to either cheer you up if you were sad or make you stay happy if you felt good. Finland loved animals, and especially Hanatamago. They were so sweet and kind. They never thought about what you said, only cared about the tone. They didn't judge you like others did and they didn't have any prejudices for you, unless they had had a bad past.

Animals were precious. They just wanted food and attention and in return, they gave you the best friend you could ever get. They might not be able to talk, might not be able to discuss your problems with you, but they were _there_. You could list all of your problems to them and they wouldn't think badly of you for not finding the courage to talk with the cute boy from class. They wouldn't think you an idiot for anything. They just gave their love to you on those two conditions: food and attention.

Finland didn't notice that a hand had found his shoulder as he sat with Hanatamago. He just looked into her deep, seemingly endless and beautiful, glistening eyes, watched the black shine and glitter with warmth and love, feeling her rough tongue continue to lick over his chin and then his cheek as he bent his head a little forward. She yapped happily, her small tail wagging even more as she with all her might seemed to want to lick his skin off.

The hand on his shoulder tightened a bit before relaxing, the fingers going to stroke over the fabric of his shirt. He could feel his bones be poked gently, creating a shiver that rolled from his neck and down to his lower back, making his skin erupt in goose bumps. He knew the hand, knew who the strong and big but impossibly kind fingers belonged to.

He didn't need the stoic and emotionless voice to talk to him to know the person. And yet, he liked to hear it. The voice was welcome, he had come to treasure it in the four hundred years he had been deep in the ground, yet high in the sky. Every day had he yearned to hear it and every time it spoke to him, he had begged for it to last just a little longer. Just... Just a little longer.

Just stay with me.

It was an incredibly selfish wish and Finland felt bad for having it. He had changed so much and now... He didn't doubt that Sweden still loved him so deeply, that the strong heart only beat for Tino and for himself. He was not sure if the wish he felt in his heart, the tug at the muscle he had begun to feel whenever he thought of Sweden, was a good or a bad thing.

He didn't want to... to be too dependent on one person. He wanted to be big and strong on his own, he wanted to become a great nation, a strong and mighty country so he didn't have to fear the others. He didn't like the thought of having to depend on someone else.

Finland knew he wasn't the strongest around but that was not a thing he wished for... He was strong, yes, he had nearly beaten Russia in the Winter War, but also only nearly. If he had been just a tiny bit bigger, just had a bit more men, then he would have won. He wanted that, he wanted to be able to defend himself without having people to support him.

But at the same time, his heart now beat with a wish to stay by Sweden, stay by his side and live his life with him. Maybe not 'till the end but at least... at least for a while. Was he weak for thinking like that? Would he be considered weak by the other nations if they found out he wanted to stay with Sweden?

. . .

Yes. He would. They would see it as weakness, that he wasn't strong enough to maintainhimself. He was a weakling in their eyes, he couldn't be a tough and violent person as the others could.

But they were wrong! Finland could be badass and tough, too. He was the one to invent some of the spiciest candy ever - his dear salmiakki - that people from around the world had problems dealing with, he was the one to get the idea of setting alcohol on fire in a bottle and throw it, making it a bomb. He was one of the countries with the best aim, only beaten by Switzerland who he held regularly shooting contests with.

How could he _not_be badass? Just because he looked small and fine and delicate didn't mean he couldn't be someone else... But that's the thing about looking like one person and actually being like another. People only notice your outer layer.

"I hav' ya under my custody, Tino," the voice said to him, coming from somewhere behind him. Close. Another hand found his other shoulder and the fingers gently curled, grabbing him tightly, yet not even near enough to make it hurt. They were... too kind. How could Berwald have these kind fingers when he used to be a monster, a Viking that everybody feared, the supreme ruler of the North along with Norway and Denmark? A beast like that shouldn't be able to show that kindness.

People only notice your outer layer.

But Berwald was much more than that, Finland had come to find out. Sweden looked like the biggest and scariest creeper you could find on the planet and he looked like he was always staring at you, judging you for things he knew you had done despite never having said a word about it. He could look right through your souland your mind, he could read your thoughts if you just gave away a single emotion.

He was seriously creepy.

But more than that, he was also the kindest person you could ever meet. He was selfless and only cared for those he held dear. He always put others before himself if they meant something to him. He treated Finland like a princess, gave him what he wanted when he wanted it and he never questioned it.

Sweden took care of him in such a way that Finland couldn't help feeling like he was being a nuisance, that he somehow managed to annoy Sweden who didn't show it, just kept on doing what he was doing to make his wife feel nice.

Sweden loved him unconditionally. He treasured him, cherished him and made him feel like he was something special. Sweden had scared the shit out of Finland in the beginning, yes, but after having spent over four hundred years in complete and utter darkness without going bonkers, Finland had come to realize that Sweden's love for him was the purest thing he would ever be as lucky to meet. Sweden really, truly only wanted the best for him and he would stop everyone in harming him if it was possible. He would do anything to make sure his dear and precious wife was fineand didn't miss anything.

And... even if he knew this, even if Finland knew that Sweden would probably help him gain independence if he asked for it, Finland didn't feel like he could ever ask that. He wanted to but he also wanted a life with Sweden. He was going to marry him, marry the scary-as-hell man behind him who now had his big hands around Finland's face, fingers brushing over cheeks that slowly became wet when his eyes leaked and tears started to fall.

There was complete silence in the room. Only Hanatamago made sounds and they were small whines, followed by a head gently pushing into his chest, small paws trotting at his stomach. She whined again when he didn't react immediately. Finland got one of his hands to stroke the small and furry head, earning himself a less miserable whine and a trying lick to his fingers instead.

Sitting like that, with warm water running down his cheeks, staining them with long and red trails, he opened his mouth to ask another question. It had, in all honesty, been bothering him a while and he wanted an answer, even if it might be… painful for the others to hear. Especially for Sweden.

Curling the white and cottony coat of Hanatamago around his fingers, he sent Iceland a look and noticed how the man's eyebrows raised a bit, giving him a slightly questioning expression, wondering why Finland looked at him like that.

"How…" His voice broke and he had to try over after having cleared his throat. He felt a slight blush creep over his cheeks as this happened and he felt embarrassed, just a bit. "How did… the others react?"

There could be no doubt what he was referring to. He felt the hands on his shoulders tighten the tiniest bit and then relax once more. Of course Sweden would feel anxious about that topic. Iceland, though, merely looked surprised and held Finland's gaze over his oversized mug with Coke.

"Why do you expect me to answer that?" he asked flatly, though with a bit more life and commitment than his older brother.

Finland couldn't quite find a fitting answer for that and let his head fall a bit forward, thinking Iceland wouldn't answer his questions. He had somewhat hoped he wouldn't have to fish long for an answer as he wanted it to pain them as little as possible, especially Sweden. Few seconds later, though, the Icelandic lowered his mug and peered into the dark substance, as if he was pondering on how to answer the question.

Then, after a long moment, he looked up again, finding Finland's eyes once more. There was something in them that the Finn wasn't used to. Something like understanding, like he understood why Finland wanted to know this.

"They were all very sad, of course. Except for Swe, I think Estonia took it worst. He was very depressed in the following years and his economy suffered a serious downfall. It was over, though, after about, I think it was five or ten years, and now, his country is blooming like never before. Everybody else was grief-stricken, too."

Finland nodded slowly, biting his lower lip.

"More than that," Iceland added, now having his gaze on Sweden's face though that man only looked at the back of Finland's head. "We were all worried about Swe. You can't imagine how hard it hit him. It was a serious blow to all of us but Swe was worst off."

The Finn felt his chest constrict and he made a broken sound, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Fingers grabbed harder around his thin shoulders.

"Where Estonia tried to talk about it with Latvia and Lithuania, Swe kept his sorrow to himself. He didn't talkto anyone about it, let alone let us help." Iceland was glaring at the Swede who only had eyes for his precious wife. He… He didn't want to hear this. He knew he had been bad off and he knew he hadn't been acting like one should when dealing with such a change in your life but he had been unable to seek assistance from others.

But if Finland wanted to hear, if he wanted to know what had been going on, then so be it. Then Sweden wouldn't interrupt, even if it pained him to let the conversation continue.

"He was quieter than usual. Yes, that is possible," the Icelandic added when Finland made a sound of disbelief, "and he would often space out, look out in front of him and completely forget about everyone else until we either yelled at him or poked him hard in the sides."

A small silence stretched out between them as Iceland tried to determine if he had said enough or if Finland wanted more information. When the Finn didn't do or say anything, he figured that he had to say more. He did so, even if he would prefer to remain quiet. But it seemed Finland had placed some kind of trust in him and as much as he was unsure why he apparently deserved it, he didn't want to misuse it.

"Even France and Poland managed to stop their constant fight about fashion for a while. Prussia was surprisingly quiet, too. Even seemed to avoid his brother a bit. I don't know why, though."

"Well," Denmark interrupted, causing Finland to snap his head upwards and look over at the blond who had a surprisingly serious expression on his face, "he loves his brother incredibly much, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Not in the same way as Swe and Finny love each other, of course, but as brothers. I bet he feared something would happen to Germany, maybe got some bad conscience himself. Raised Germany to be a cold and deadly war-machine, y'know?"

Iceland and Norway nodded. Finland and Sweden didn't do anything. Sealand was completely quiet.

"And Russia," Sweden felt a rush of sudden anger go through him by the mentioning of the man who had taken away his precious Tino all those many, many years ago, "seemed surprised. I don't think he expected you to fall anytime soon since you survived his cold grasp."

There was another small silence in which everyone just looked at Finland as he stared at the dog and curled his thin fingers around in her fur.

Then Sealand talked, much to Denmark's obvious surprise. It seemed he hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that Seland was growing up.

Sealand didn't want to act childish right now. He knew this was very serious and he _had_grown older and become more mature, he shouldn't fall back now.

"I was there, too," the blond boy reminded them, making Finland's shoulder tense a bit. "I might not be a country yet, but I still had to deal with it. I wanted to help papa because I could see he was sad but he didn't want it. So I tried to deal with it on my own, too. Can that be why I've grown?"

"Mm, I think so," Denmark mumbled and sat further back in his chair. "When someone experiences something horrible, like this, and they survive without too many troubles, they tend to grow a bit, just only in the mind. As we are countries, and you are a micronation, your physical growth could be a sign of your ability to go through hard times. Which is a good thing."

Sealand smiled widely even if the topic in general was sad. Growing was the best thing he could imagine. He really wanted to become a country! Even now, when he had seen how tough it could be and that an entire country could still die, he wanted to become one.

It took a while for Finland to find it in him to nod slowly. When he did, he felt new water press into his eyes and he let it flow as it pleased. So… people had actually been caring about him. They had been worried about Sweden, too. That was somewhat nice to know, even though the circumstances for the sudden care could barely have been any worse.

He felt his head carefully be bent backwards and the tears stopped rolling for a moment before then falling to the sides. The eyes opened and he found himself face-to-face with Sweden. The blue orbs were showing emotions and his fingers... The calloused fingers were still so soft despite the proof of the hard work he did every day.

"Tino," the man mumbled, holding his face carefully in his big and strong hands with too much care for him, "I wou'd never let ya die again. Ya are goin' t' marry me and I will make sure ya go back to normal. Ya will be strong'r with me."

His chest tightened painfully for a long second and his face screwed up, causing him to inhale air with a wheezing sound before the feeling disappeared and he could relax his face again. Hot water continued to leave his eyes as he looked up at the Swede.

"And... my country...? When will it... be back to normal? I don't... don't want to be this weak..." He could barely do the chores he used to. Just a quick cleaning of the house was enough to have him napping for hours.

"The group is havin' a meetin' with my boss," Sweden murmured, lips only centimetres from touching the Finn's forehead.

'The group' was - of course - the people that had collected signatures from people around the world. At the moment, they were busy talking and arguing with Sweden's boss and Sweden's government about how exactly to do this. They hadn't figured anything out yet but it was hundred per cent sure that Berwald and Tino would be the first to know when something had been decided.

"When they hav' decided, ya will feel stronger. It'll take a long time, probably years, but ya will be strong, Tino. Trust me. Once the government has be'n chosen, ya will start t' feel better. From there on," the lips finally met the smaller man's forehead, sending small jolts through the Finn, "it will be up t' ya. But I will be here and help ya. Ya are not alone, Tino."

A very long moment passed where Sweden and Finland just looked into each other's eyes, something slowly building between them. It wasn't physical - only the tightening feeling that returned to Finland's chest and heart - but it was something far deeper and far more intense than Finland had ever felt and he didn't know how to feel and how to react. He just knew that Sweden was right, that Sweden's words would come true and that Sweden was not lying to him.

Yes, Sweden was indeed the scariest person you could meet, yet he was also the kindest and the most helpful.

Eventually, it became too much for Denmark. He stood from his chair, sending it slamming into the floor because of the power. His face had taken an expression that was hard to decipher; pure shock, pure amusement or pure disgust.

"Wow, aren't you the world's sappiest dude, Swe," he exclaimed and tried to look unaffected by the sudden flow of emotions that had been between Sweden and Finland.

Sweden had never showed emotions while he was present and now that seemed to go back to normal. His face turned into a blank piece of skin as he looked over at the Dane.

"Says the man who gives pink cards an' choc'late to his lover on Valentine's Day," he said and kept close to Finland who had placed his hands atop of the other's.

"Den is the cheesiest person ever," Norway agreed and rolled his eyes before getting up as well, walking over to Finland and looking down at him. And though his face was at least as blank as Sweden's, this was something different. Finland didn't know much about Norway and what hid beneath the unmoving face. He did with Sweden.

"Ber is right. You will get up again just fine," he said and lifted his hand about halfway to Finland's face, then stopped, letting the hand waver in the air. He was clearly in doubt about whatever he had been about to do. Finally, after a long and relatively tense moment, the hand landed on top of Finland's head, gave it a single rub before quickly being withdrawn, like Norway was afraid of the contact.

"Just listen to Ber and avoid every advice Den gives-"

"Hey, I heard that!"

"- and you don't have to worry about a thing." There was the smallest ghost of a smile on the Norwegian's lips but it didn't develop as he nodded to the Finn before walking back to his seat next to Sealand. The micronation looked slightly nervous as he sat with his mug and observed his 'parents'. He didn't say anything, instead took a sip of his Coke and snapped his fingers while ducking under the table. Hanatamago was instantly by him, yapping and wagging her small tail, eager to play again.

"How did you even know I do that?" Denmark asked as he sat down on his chair after having pulled it up again. "I don't think I ever told you about my gifts to Nor."

"Just because you don't doesn't mean I'm the same," the Norwegian mumbled, looking to the side with his arms crossed over the chest. "And you aren't exactly quiet or subtle about your presents." But as one could expect, Denmark only seemed to notice the first sentence. His face lit in a giant smile as he pulled Norway into his lap, grinning up at him. Norway nearly blushed, a faint pink tint covering his cheeks as he tried to get out of the Dane's grip, but to no avail. The taller blond had him in an iron grip.

"You actually tell people about the things I give ya? Aren't you a precious little one!" he exclaimed and hugged the other tightly, way too excited about that small revelation.

"I just... Den, let go of me, I swear, I have my trolls with me, they can beat you any time if I ask them to!" Denmark didn't even seem to consider this option as he still didn't let go of the Norwegian. "Den, I'm serious, let go! I don't really _tell_others about your presents but I can't really... Årh, for faen, Danmark, kan du slippe meg!" Now it was clear that he was blushing but he didn't stop fighting against Denmark's grip. "If they ask, I answer, okay?!"

The Dane seemed to completely ignore the man's words, instead just hugged him tighter, the fingers digging into poor Norway's sides. And though Finland had a feeling they should be helping the man, neither he nor Sweden did anything. Iceland and Sealand were the same; they just sipped their drinks and looked at the scenery and Norway that slowly got more colour in his pale cheeks and still wriggled to get free. In the end, Sealand had collected too much energy and was again running around with Hanatamago, laughing loudly.

* * *

It was dark outside before the other nations left. The heavy clock in the corner had just struck one in the night when Denmark pulled up from his chair, putting his glass of water down. Finland, Sweden, Norway and Iceland had all insisted that the Dane shouldn't have more alcohol, not even after Sealand had been put to bed. Denmark was good at holding his liquor but he had a bad habit of being more likely to throw a fit when things didn't go according to plan if he had alcohol in his system.

Finland and Sweden had excused themselves around ten to put the micronation to bed. It had _not_been possible to ignore wriggling eyebrows and low whistles from Denmark as the 'parents' took Sealand to bed and tucked him in.

As he had grown up, he no longer demanded a bedtime story. Not even when Finland asked if he was sure.

He instead grabbed one of the many teddy bears Sweden had given him and looked up at the two nations. This was a thing he and Finland had often discussed before. Finland was of the opinion that the Swede was spoiling little Sealand and made the boy unable to accept a 'no' while Sweden had argued back with 'Our boy deserves the best'. It was this kind of discussion that could often end up being heated and even if Finland would be scared shitless by Sweden when they decided to stop while everyone was okay and unharmed, the Finn would also be incredibly annoyed.

Sweden was spoiling Sealand. That was the reason the boy was sometimes acting troublesome and it was also the reason that he always demanded attention. This wasn't to say that Finland didn't like the boy, absolutely not. He loved him very much, like his own, biological son that he could never get because he was the representation of a country. The Finn would often lie in bed for a few hours, fuming over Sweden's apparent blindness to what his too big amount of generosity was doing to Sealand, until he would finally fall asleep.

And the next day, everything went back to normal. Finland was, if possible, even more scared of meeting Sweden's cold and blank face when he woke up, afraid that he had went too far this time. Finland was the type of person who was usually very kind and only very rarely raised his voice but when he did, you knew you had caught his attention. In a not too positive way. Finland wasn't the type to yell just because of something ridiculous or non-mattering. He couldn't resist a good discussion, though, eager to make his opinions clear and at the same time effectively changing the picture of him being kind and sweet to the people that observed.

"Mama, don't leave us again, okay?" Sealand mumbled and turned to lie on his back, looking up at Finland's face. The Finn swallowed heavily and troubled, then managed a smile and stroked the small boy's face and hair.

"Of course not," he answered and leant forward to plant a soft but ever so gently kiss to Sealand's forehead. Sealand also managed a smile and then shifted to get under the covers and blankets and Sweden also let his lips softly touch the boy's face, this time the cheeks.

"Sov gott," he mumbled.

"Nuku hyvin," Finland said with a smile before turning off the lights and closing the door quietly. Outside ofthe room, they looked at each other for a long time, both pair of eyes glistening with a shared happiness. Afondnessfor their little boy so strong that seemed to shine through the eyes, nearly making it physically visible how much they loved him, how much they would sacrifice for him.

And for each other.

Very carefully and slowly, Sweden reached out a hand that shook ever so lightly as his heart started to thump harder against his ribs. He let the fingers curl gently around the Finn's shoulder, his eyes boring into the prettiest orbs he had ever seen and probably would ever see. There could be no eyes prettier than his. Flawless amethyst with the thousands facets of a diamond, glistening so strong and clear he thought they were sparks that would set his heart on fire and blind his own pair of icy blue orbs. A depth like none he had ever experienced, so many feelings able to break through and make themselves present. A depth in which he would get lost, drown, if he didn't watch out.

Finland didn't say a word when Sweden pulled him closer and bent forward to carefully catch perfect and delicious lips with his own, making the blood in his veins burn with the ferocity of a thousand flames. The only sound was one so soft it could as well never have been there. It was a sound of happiness and content, nearly like a small hum that sent soft and feathery jolts through the bigger man's body and he closed his eyes as Finland did the same.

Sweden's other hand slowly went around the Finn's waist and carefully added more weight to press him closer, yet giving him enough room to get free if he would want to.

Finland hadn't meant to deepen the kiss. It wasn't on purpose that the small head with soft and blond locks tilted the slightest bit and it was most definitely not on purpose when he leaned upwards, standing on his toes, to get more contact with the Swede.

Or so he tried to tell himself. But the reward he got sent cold and pleasurable, excited, shivers down his spine, making goose bumps erupt all over his body and the small hair in the back of his head stand up. Sweden had made a content noise, a mix between a grunt and a moan, while his body stiffened for just a moment before relaxing and he let another bit of his self-control go as he grabbed around Finland's waist and lifted him off the ground, eliciting a small cry of surprise from the smaller man. It was quickly silenced, though, when he pressed their lips together, his body creating a single shiver of pleasure.

He felt Finland put his arms around him, leaning forward so Sweden didn't have to stretch his neck that much, answering and once more deepening the kiss.

At some point, it was probably very good that they were interrupted here.

Someone cleared his throat behind them and Sweden whirled around, holding Finland tightly and sending his usual death glare at whoever had decided to disturb them.

No one could be surprised to see that the wide grin belonged to Denmark and that he was leaning against the wall, looking utterly comfortable with his arms crossed over his chest and one leg lazily crossing the other. His eyes shone mischievously and a chuckle came from his throat as he observed the two nations.

"Was wondering what took you so long," he simply stated and though most people would have been warned and probably already fleeing by the glare that Sweden sent him, Denmark was completely unaffected by it. He was used to it, after all. "Seems the reason is pretty legit for once."

"Go back down," Sweden growled at him as he slowly let the Finn down again, hands still lingering on the small shoulders.

"Right, right, just don't eat each other when people could pass by, eh?"

"Look who's talking," Finland shot at him along with an annoyed glance. One of his hands had went to clutch Sweden's shirt. "You're even worse than France. At least he knows when enough is enough."

"Harsh words from such a pretty-"

"Don't you dare." Sweden would _not_ allow Denmark to speak about his adorable wife like that. The Dane was vile and obnoxious and he would probably not hesitate in falling back into his raging Viking-personality if he got the chance. Sweden could see it happening if Finland was nearby and he would do whatever it took to hinder anything. Denmark shouldn't even dare to _think_about letting one of his filthy and perverted hands touch sweet little Tino.

Denmark knew this and though he didn't like obeying Sweden, he also knew that he didn't want him and Norway to team up against him. He had tried that once. It had taken a painful long time for his hair to grow out again after being burnt. So he settled with throwing his hands in the air in defeat, though still with the mischievous grin in place, before he walked down the stairs.

"Don't make us wait, lovebirds!" he sang, then laughed before a hard voice silenced him as Norway apparently scolded him.

Annoyance still rushed through Finland's veins when he turned around to face Sweden who looked as stoic and emotionless as always. It changed, though, to an expression of surprise when the Finn grabbed a fistful of clothes and more or less forced the other to lean forward, lips crashing together once more and making both of the men sigh lightly.

It lasted far from long enough. Finland pulled away all too soon, sending him a weak but so very happy smile before he took Sweden's hand and tugged it to get him to move. Sweden agreed after a moment of complete surprise, then moved with his precious wife.

* * *

Few words later, Denmark, Norway and Iceland were sent home. Denmark was grinning widely and sent Sweden and Finland telling looks and wriggled with his eyebrows so much it annoyed Iceland enough to take the man's hat and throw it away. The Dane whined and instantly went after it. It took long enough to make Norway and Iceland able to say a more polite 'goodbye' than Denmark had come up with. After that, they left, grabbing the Dane by his arms and dragging him to their car.

Once inside again, Sweden and Finland sat by the table. The smaller of them sat on the surface, sighed deeply and leaned his head back, eyes closed and feeling heavy.

"He's so exhausting," he mumbled.

"Mh," was all he got in response and he cracked one eye open

while raising his head a bit. Sweden was nodding softly and he looked very sleepy. "Very exhausting."

Finland chuckled lightly - a sound so precious Sweden would always remember it in both mind and soul - and shifted a bit so he was leaning forward and had a foot gently placed on Sweden's knee. His elbow rested on his own leg, and in the palm of his hand was his chin, eyes looking at the Swede. "Thinks someone's tired," he said and leaned forward to tap the man's cheek.

An eye was opened lazily, then closed again, and the ghost of a smile haunted his lips as Sweden muttered "Ma'be."

"Well, then go to bed!"

"Don' wanna. Sittin' fine."

"Come on," Finland chirped and slid down from the table and so close to Sweden that the man could feel the Finn's hot breath on his face. His skin was covered in goose bumps in few seconds. "You don't want your wife to carry you, do you?"

**Phew. These things are getting long, aren't they? I am currently writing the wedding-parts but they are a tad too long so I'm trying to cut them down a bit. Any idea how hard that is?  
Sorry for possible out-of-character-ness, especially for Sealand's part! **

**Translations:**

_Sov gott = Sleep well (Swedish)_

_Nuku hyvin = Sleep well (Finnish)_

_Årh, for faen, Danmark, kan du slippe meg! __= Damn it, Denmark, let go of me! (Norwegian)_


	4. Preparations for the big day

**Hello there! So, first part of the wedding! I will split this up in more chapters – sorry for doing that…  
Thanks to DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D**

**Edit (1/1-2013) : Changed "Estland" to Estonia. It's the same country but "Estland" is in my language, Danish. I fail. **

* * *

It was early morning in Finland's house when he woke up, eyes snapping wide open as his heart instantly began to race. What was the time, had he slept in? Was he late? Hadn't he heard his alarm?

His hand flew to the side, grabbed the phone and he blinked a few times, looking at the screen after having tapped it gently. Then he frowned. That was weird. It was only seven-thirty. He shouldn't even be up by now. Finland sighed deeply and put the phone back on the small bed-side table. Oh well, guess it's better to be up too early than too late, right?

His heart, though, didn't still its rapid pace. It was today. Today was the day Berwald and he would finally take each other's hands in marriage. Today was the day Sweden and Finland officially and thoroughly merged, completing the alliance that had been under way for a long time by now.

The Finn's mind began to race as well, brain flooding with pictures of both himself in his attire and Sweden in his... He was very sure he flushed a little when he imagined what his future husband would look like. What kind of clothes he would be wearing, not to mention the colours. It would be an understatement to say that Finland was excited.

And so, not able to go back to sleep to get the last hour of rest, he jumped out of bed and put on some rather old clothes that hung over the back of the chair by his desk. Estonia was probably not even awake yet. Or maybe he exactly was? Downing pitch-black coffee like it was water while he was tapping away on his computer. Both were very possible opportunities but Finland was too polite to call someone at this unholy time. Instead he went into his kitchen on shaking legs, feet dashing over the wooden floor and making small noises when his feet connected with the cold material.

The house was empty save for him and Hanatamago. Everybody knew that it brought misfortune to see your future wife or husband before the ceremony itself so Sweden was at his own house while Finland was in his. They had let England take care of Sealand until they went to the church.

Once inside the kitchen, Finland found Hanatamago in her basket, curled up on herself like a small ball. She was snoring ever so softly and Finland didn't have the heart to wake her just to greet her. He therefore let her sleep and quietly found something that would make a decent breakfast but wouldn't fill his stomach too much. He would need to keep an eye on the amount of food he ate. Hungary had told him that corsets were hard and painful to wear if your belly was full enough to swell. Not that Finland really had to look out for that; he was still thinner than usually despite Sweden's stubborn attempts of changing that.

Settling with a cup of coffee - with a small amount of Finnish vodka in it - and a bun of rye, he sat in his couch, turning on the television while he nervously crossed and uncrossed his legs, shifting position ever so often. His heart had settled a small bit but Finland kept sending glances at both his wristwatch and the clock on the wall. Half an hour till he should have gotten up.

He turned on his computer, eyes occasionally flickering to the television screen to follow the show. The Moomins. He knew all the episodes by heart and knew every line and knew exactly who did what and when but he never got tired of it. It was one of his favourite shows.

Checking his e-mail, Finland found a mail from his dear Estonian friend. Just ten minutes ago. Finland's heart seemed to skip a beat before getting stuck in his throat. He didn't even bother to think of a reply as he read the mail and stretched backwards awkwardly to pick up the phone, dialling Estonia's number.

"Hi, Eesti! You're awake already?" he asked, taking a swig of his coffee. His eyes now settled on the television, fingers grabbing the remote to mute the device so he could focus better on his friend.

"Yup! Went to bed early in the hope I wouldn't be tired when waking up! It worked, I'm not tired at all!"

Finland noted that. In fact, Estonia seemed a bit _too_energetic and fresh.

"How many cups of coffee have you had yet?" he therefore continued, putting down his own porcelain cup.

There was a small silence from the other and Finland rolled his eyes, yet couldn't help a smile spread over his face.

"More or less than ten?"

Estonia's answer started in a mumble so hushed that the Finn couldn't really make out what he was saying but it soon turned so loud that there was no problem understanding the words at all.

"... but I swear, I didn't mean to! It's just, there's this new virus floating around and I'm trying to capture and neutralize it! It just proofs to be a little harder than first anticipated. It's a really complicated one and has infected not only servers and people's personal computers but even the official system in several countries have been affected! It's like a combination of several viruses in one and though I think I have one part under control, the others are-"

"Eesti!" Finland interrupted, not able to hold back a small giggle though he tried to cover it with a hand, "Eesti, just shut up, okay? I don't blame you, it's okay! I just wanted to hear if you could get over here now, since you're already up?"

The sound of several buttons being pressed at an impossible pace reached his ears, then the sound of a laptop being slammed shut. The smile grew wider, his heart beat becoming a bit faster. He shot a glance at the clock. Great. Now was the time he should have woken up.

"Of course! I'll be right over!" With those words, the call ended and Finland leaned back against the couch with a deep sigh. It was soon. It was actually really soon now. A few hours and he would say 'I do' to Berwald Oxenstierna... And Berwald Oxenstierna would say 'I do' to him. It was so magical. He was anxious, yet incredibly happy.

Unable to sit down and just wait for his friend, he began to clean the already perfectly clean house, pushing around objects and redecorating the living room and kitchen. A low sound informed him that he had accidentally woken up Hanatamago and he looked down at her from the counter he was kneeling on.

"Ah, sorry, Hana!" he said. She yawned and whined lowly, and though that kind of sound was usually associated with pain, this wasn't the case right now. She was just tired and wanted to sleep even if she could feel her owner being more nervous than usually. She was but a dog and though intelligent, her mind wasn't able to connect the dots that had been painted lately.

Finland finished up redecorating the kitchen for the fifth time in three days before he finally heard knocking on his door. His heart seemed to skip yet another beat as he dashed to the door and tore it open, nearly forcing it off its hinges.

Estonia stood outside, clad in casual clothes and a bright smile. He wore new glasses and though Finland wasn't too happy about the design, they made Estonia seem kinder and somehow warmer than before. It wasn't that the man was unkind or rude - except for if you insulted his language, culture or technological devices; then you could prepare for a scolding you had never had before - but he easily came off as reserved and impolite at times. These glasses completely changed that, though.

He carried a suitcase in both hands and a jacket was casually hung over his left shoulder.

"Hello, Finny," he greeted and went to hug the Finn and though it proved troublesome with the stuff in his hands, he somehow managed to do it. Finland hugged back tightly, his arms trembling the slightest bit. He was so nervous but very happy.

"Shouldn't we get inside?" the other asked after a long minute of hugging, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable with both the closeness and the cold outside. It was still early in the morning, after all, and Finland was a terribly cold country in the winter and early spring.

"Oh! Right, sorry, come on in!" Finland agreed and made room for the other to get inside.

* * *

"Get the hell out of my house."

Denmark refused to listen, just grinned widely as he nearly kicked down the door and strutted inside like he owned the entire place. He had at one time, though, and this was probably the reason he had that attitude. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was a major pain in the ass and believed he owned everything he could come close to and was convenient for him.

He surely didn't care about the usual death glare he got from the Swede. The gaze clearly said he was going to die if he didn't get out soon but Denmark completely ignored it in favour of investigating the garment cover for the clothes his arch-enemy was going to wear in a moment.

Behind them, Norway and Iceland also entered the house, though they didn't say anything.

"Den, I told you to piss off," Sweden repeated and slammed the door shut after them. He was not amused at all. He hadn't even gotten his coffee to start the morning with, how the hell did that stupid idiot even _dare_ to think about getting over here this early? It was barely past seven and Sweden was _not_a person you wanted to wake up. Denmark, of all people, should know that by now. Apparently, he didn't care, and it was only due to his incredible self-control that he had managed to build up during his time with Finland that Sweden didn't kick the Dane out quite violently.

Denmark was wearing his usual clothes. The coat was open and revealed a red shirt with a black vest and black tie. The trousers were red, as well, but the hat, gloves and boots were black as the night. Iceland was wearing his brown jacket, white shirt, brown trousers and white boots. Norway wore a faded green sweater and blue trousers.

"But you surely need help for your big day!" Denmark chirped and surprisingly carefully opened the bag in which a tuxedo was hiding. The Swede was beside him in two long steps, firmly closing the sleeve to hide the clothes.

"I don' need help, especially not yours," he growled, feeling his temper reach alarming heights. Stupid, idiotic Denmark. He could have waited just half an hour and then there would be no problem. Except for the fact that Denmark was in his house which was bad enough.

Norway and Iceland had placed themselves ona big couch, watching the two arch-enemies in silence.

The Dane sent him a fake pout that he couldn't maintain for long, instead letting his face split in a wide smile and he friendly punched Sweden's shoulder. A gesture that earned him a solid and not very friendly punch to the jaw.

"Not in the mood for that right now."

"Really?" the hurt man mumbled and rubbed the sore spot as he picked himself up from the floor, "I had no idea."

"Take this as a warnin', then," Sweden flatly stated and tried to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking very lightly. It wouldn't be noticed by the untrained eye, neither would it be noticeable for a person that didn't know Sweden. But since Denmark had known him pretty much his entire life, he had learned to pick up these signals and he had learned how to recognize them. And especially how to use them for his advantage, if such an opportunity showed up.

Today, though, it seemed like he hadn't any ideas of using anything to his advantage. It could be a trick but something in his eyes said that he was completely serious about this.

"Hey, don't whine like that," he said, energy instantly back and grin back in place on his face when he noticed the Swede's hands shiver and the slight anxiety that was in the big man's voice. "You can whine for your little Finn when the time comes but for now, we've gotta make you handsome! Don't worry, the awesome me will make that happen in a jiffy, even if you look like a mess!"

"If you would've let me get my coffee, it would've been differen'."

"Beauty doesn't come like that! It took me years to develop this hot face and godly body, y'know?"

"Years haven' been kind to ya, then," Sweden grumbled and felt the anger dwindle in favour of just simple annoyance. He went to the kitchen, ignoring Denmark's sounds and words when he didn't find them important which was - let's be fair - about 85 % of the time. He heard few words escape the two other nations' lips, making Denmark chuckle lightly.

As he poured fresh and hot coffee into a mug with the Swedish flag, Denmark swung an arm around his shoulder, stretching a bit to reach the man that was slightly taller than him. Denmark had always hated this and Sweden had found it incredibly amusing. The man didn't say anything, simply stared up at him and Sweden glared back with a gaze that would have made everyone else cower away. Even - or especially? - poor Finland.

The sudden thought of him and what he would look like later and what would happen in a few hours made Sweden's heart do a back-flip before beginning to race like chased by the Devil himself. Tino would soon officially be his wife. Finland would soon officially merge with Sweden and thereby finally confirm the alliance they had been planning for so long.

The Swede was pulled out of his thoughts when Denmark ruffled his hair and gave it a wild and messy look before stepping away a bit and sent him a smile that wasn't without genuine warmth.

"Y'know, even though I hate you and all that shit, I still want Finny to be happy. So why don't you get changed and let the awesome that is me help you out in the process? Obviously you have no idea about how to make a handsome appearance!"

Like Sweden had ever cared about his appearance. As long as he was wearing clothes that covered him up it was fine. He had never really cared about how he looked, as long as he was about decent and as long as he didn't scare Finland too much.

He remembered one time from the Viking age where he had returned to their house after a particularly violent and bloody trip to the Western part of Russia. Lots of humans had been slaughtered and it wasn't only their blood that was on his clothes. Sweden's blood had trickled down his face from a long wound that went from just about his right temple and to the beginning of his neck. Sending a single and blank look at Finland who had been sharpening some of their swords was enough to make the poor man cry in terror and flee back into their sleeping chamber where he remained hidden until Norway somehow managed to convince him to get out and eat with them.

Sweden didn't really want a repetition of that and despite this, it had happened several times after. When they returned from England, having left Denmark at the throne, they had been equally soaked in blood and bestiality had still been flashing in Sweden and Norway's eyes, giving Finland very good reason to hide once more. And this time, no one tried to get him out. Neither Sweden nor Norway attempted to coax him out his hide. They simply sat by the fire, clenching their mighty and deadly weapons as they stared into the dance of red and yellow and orange colours before them, feel the adrenaline slowly begin to fade after many hours.

And when they were once more normal, when the blood rush was gone and the hard and gruesome shine from their eyes had disappeared, Norway had went straight to bed while the Swede had tried to find little Finland. When he didn't find him in the sleeping chamber or in the small side room to their animals, Sweden had felt a jab of anxiety and curiosity in his chest. Telling this to Norway - who was fast asleep, therefore not responding - he left the house and started his search for his dear Finn.

After having walked through the entire village for a few hours, and having searched every house and every haystack he came across, he went outside of the town, calling for Finland and asking him to show up. Just show up so Sweden could be sure that he was alright and that he was still here. Just something.

It hadn't been successful until the moon was high on the sky and the clouds were making space for the pale rays to touch the ground ever so softly. At that time, when wolves started to wake and their howls filled the air and you would be an idiot to seek out into the darkness, and when shadows seemed to become real, stretching and shrinking, moving and standing still, Sweden had seen a familiar man by a giant tree that seemed to reach into the sky.

"Tino?" His voice was rough and cold as always and even in the darkness that surrounded them, it seemed that his face was as dead and emotionless as ever. It was as if you could still see the blank stare that was in his eyes.

The man didn't react. He simply sat there, leaning against the trunk of the tree, and seemed to be either unconscious, fast asleep or… dead. The fact that there could be three possibilities had made Sweden's heart ache and then freeze as he stepped forward enough to let a hand find the small shoulder. It had been very cold, Sweden remembered, as he put the mug down and followed Denmark into the living room again.

The shoulder had been too cold for his liking and the man hadn't reacted to his touch. His breathing was even, though shallow, but he didn't look peaceful. His brows were furrowed lightly and his lips would occasionally twitch as Sweden watched him. Well, that had at least excluded the 'dead' option.

"Tino." There was still no reaction from the smaller man and Sweden felt his chest tighten even more. Kneeling beside the Finn, he grabbed the other shoulder and gently shook the man. Sweden knew that Finland was afraid of him and Sweden knew that even if he would love to carry the man home, said man would never allow it. Not even if it was necessary.

A small mumble escaped the cold and starting to become blue lips and Finland turned his head. But it was clear that it was an unconscious movement. Finland wasn't awake, he was still sleeping.

'Please,' Sweden thought to himself as he carefully picked up the Finn and cradled him in his arms, 'let it just be sleep.'.

It had been, luckily. Sweden couldn't remember ever having prayed to so many Gods at the same time and as many times as he did that night, waiting for Finland to wake up. Having put the man down on his bed - rather, a rectangular space covered with hay and blankets - he just sat beside him and stared. He could remember Norway wake up at one time and call out to him. Answering him, the Norwegian had gone to Sweden's sleeping place. There had been nothing of an expression on his face that could tell what the man was feeling about what he saw. If he even felt anything.

"Foun' 'im by a tre'. Was afraid h' might hav' be'n hurt," Sweden mumbled and carefully brushed a lock of blond hair behind the small ears. Norway didn't say or do anything, simply stared for a moment longer and then disappeared again.

Finland showed to be okay when he woke up. Sweden hadn't thought about changing his clothes after he got back from the slaughter the day before and the thought hadn't even occurred to him as he sat by Finland and watched him. So when the beautiful violet eyes opened and focused on the first thing recognizable - a scary face belonging to a giant man - it could be no surprise that the man cried out in fear once more.

Sweden's face had been blank as always but on the inside, he was happier than he could remember having been for a long time. Finland was okay. 'Definitely okay,' the Swede added when the other began to rummage around, apologizing for his absence the day before, informing that he would start doing the chores instantly.

He had been stopped, though, by Norway and his equally empty face.

"No. I'll do them today. You just rest." Intimidated by two men who showed absolutely nothing in their faces or eyes, Finland had been too scared to protest. He had instead found a place by the fire, curled up in a blanket Sweden had thrown around him.

A few days later, when Sweden had finished his bath and dried himself, he found Finland in his sleeping chamber, halfway asleep. The Swede sat down beside him and felt the man start a bit, moving to the side in an unconscious attempt to get away from whoever was beside him.

"Tino," the Swede had mumbled, looking at the smaller man without touching in any way, "why did ya run 'way?"

It came as a big surprise to him when Finland actually answered, even if the words were blurry and he seemed too far off to really know he was talking.

"Was afraid. You were soaked in blood and looked wrong."

'Just got home from a raid. What do you expect?' Sweden had thought to himself but hadn't said a word.

"You were even scarier than usually. Sorry I ran away," the Finn mumbled and turned around again, facing Sweden though still only partly conscious.

"'S okay. Just worried," Sweden said and gave the soft skin of Finland's face a gentle stroke before he got up and left.

Completely swallowed up in memories, Sweden didn't really notice how Denmark 'helped' him undress - more like, did it for him - and he only vaguely registered Denmark's annoyed face when the Swede's body was revealed. Sweden was bigger and stronger than the Dane and it was very clear when the clothes were removed.

"You look like you're smirking. Stop that," he grumbled and slapped Sweden's head, causing the bigger to instinctively hit back and thereby knock over the Dane. As he lay sprawled on the floor and tried to get up - his coat was in the way, very much to Sweden's amusement - the Swede felt it as well. His lips were curling uncharacteristically upwards, nearly making him smirk.

"S' much for a godly body, hm?"

Denmark flung a ball of paper from his pocket at his face.

* * *

"Are you sure it's okay, Finland?"

"Of course! You're helping me, so of course it's fine."

Lithuania nodded lightly before turning around to look at the Finn. Finland was naked, save for his underwear, and stood in front of a mirror. He was blushing ever so lightly. To be honest, he wasn't that happy about looking at his own body. Not only because he was so thin but also because it in general was small. It was a long-time wish of his to become big and strong and he didn't like that his body seemed to care shit about that.

"You're a total dork for asking things like that, Liet," another voice sounded by the couch. Poland was sitting on the back of the furniture and was chewing bubble gum while he looked over at the men by the mirror. Estonia was busy trying to get the corset right, not knowing what was heads or tail on it before the Pole rolled his eyes and went to help the poor man. Latvia, small and nervous as he was, stood beside the Lithuanian and observed what happened.

"Eeh, how can you, like, not know this?" he said as he gave the corset back when the laces had been applied correctly and it went the right way.

Lithuania couldn't blame Estonia, though. It wasn't a corset like the ones women wore so there was no build-in bra to show how it should be put on. Furthermore, Estonia had - as far as Lithuania knew - never had a date or just researched this kind of lingerie. And even though Estonia was very clever, there are just some things you don't know automatically.

"How do _you_ know?" the bespectacled man asked and made Finland raise his arms a bit so he could put the corset on. The Finn was shaking very lightly, nervousness starting to tear at his insides. Maybe he was a little afraid about this corset-thing. He had never tried anything like this and since Hungary had told how painful it _could_be, he was anxious. He had also heard horrible stories about people who had died because they had worn corsets. That had, of course, been over many, many years of use on a daily basis, meaning that Finland had absolutely no reason to fear that this would ever happen to him.

"Hungary," Poland answered and blew a bubble of gum that quickly popped with a loud sound, making Finland shriek lightly but remain in place. "She asked me to, like, help her once with a corset. She was totally rad in that thing, actually."

Estonia nodded, seemingly not caring at all. In fact, he wasn't really fond of Poland. That man always craved Lithuania for himself when the brunette was actually supposed to do important stuff at his own or Russia's house.

A long silence followed where Estonia - successfully - put the corset on the Finn while they talked in their respective languages. They seemed to understand each other perfectly fine, even if one spoke Finnish and the other spoke Estonian. There could be no doubt about the topic; the marriage that would soon take place. Finland spoke with a voice brimming over with nervousness, happiness and excitement and he was blabbering away, his mouth never seeming to close to let the other speak. He also spoke much faster than he did when speaking English as he didn't need to think about what word to use and how the context would sound if he used one word instead of another and such.

The corset wasn't as bad as Finland had anticipated. It felt maybe a bit too tight around his waist but he guessed that was how it was supposed to be. Looking into the mirror, he blushed even more. He had a figure. An actual figure. And it looked like a women's, just a little, with the way his waist had become slimmer.

For a moment, Finland wondered why Sweden apparently liked to call him 'wife' when he was clearly homosexual. Was it kind of like a turn-on? Or to show who Finland belonged to? Furthermore, Finland found it strange if Sweden would like to see him in female clothing. Wouldn't that make him look like a woman...?

He didn't get too long time to think about it, though, before his shoulder was tapped gently and he turned to face Estonia. The man had a confused and not entirely amused expression on his face and Finland could understand why. It was no secret that Estonia was straight and that he found men wearing women's clothing plain wrong and that he thought Finland was humiliating himself and his manliness by doing this. Yet, he didn't say anything about it, but simply helped, as any good friend would.

The Estonian was holding a white garter belt with matching white stockings. There was nothing extraordinary about them, just plain white, though a very vague grey line decorated the fabric in lazy curls and scrolls. But you would have to get very close to notice.

That thought was followed by a more intimate one - Sweden would get close enough to notice - and Finland blushed deeply.

"Pervert," Estonia commented, yet with a smile lingering on his face. "Besides, I won't have anything to do with those. Sorry, pal."

"I'm not a pervert! And don't worry about that, I know how you feel about this kind of thing," Finland said reassuringly as he turned to Poland.

One would maybe wonder why Poland of all people was here. He had no relations to Finland at all so it would be strange for him to just show up like that. But when you gave it deeper thought, it made sense. Finland was great friends with Estonia and Estonia lived in the same house as Latvia and Lithuania and Lithuania was friends with Poland. Thinking about it like that, it made sense why the Pole was here and now seemed to take the task of dressing Finland correctly in his own hands. Quite literally.

"Stand still," he commanded as he took the garter belt from Estonia and went around the Finn to put it on correctly. Finland did as told though he couldn't suppress small shivers. Poland was very close to his private area and though this situation wasn't arousing in the slightest, he couldn't help but think about later. When it would all have to come off.

"Someone's getting excited, huh?" Poland commented with a smug expression as he lifted one of Finland's feet to put on the stockings. Finland, whose face had gotten a normal colour when the last blush had worn off, instantly blushed even deeper and he buried his face in his hands. He knew what the Pole was talking about, had felt his manhood give a single, lazy twitch when the thought of tonight's activities got into his mind.

He didn't even try to explain, just looked at his palms and registered how Poland walked around him and touched his thighs and legs to put on the fabrics, light and feathery fingers occasionally brushing over the milky white skin of Finland's body and made him force to suppress a small shiver.

When the garter belt was securely fastened on the Finn and the stockings were connected with it, Poland moved back to admire his work, a hand propped under his chin which made him look a bit too much like France. He was making small, humming noises and studied Finland with such an intense look that it made him blush deeply and look away. His eyes found the mirror and he couldn't help but stare at the sight.

It wasn't that he had had any expectations about how he would look like wearing these. They wouldn't be seen anyway - only by Sweden, and only later on - so why should he care? But as his gaze seemed to lock with his reflection in the mirror, his mouth fell open, just a tiny bit.

The garter belt was as white as the newest and freshest snow you would ever see and it had a frilly selvage that created a tiny, tiny mini-skirt. On the front of this 'mini-skirt' was a small but cute ribbon, decorated with a single and shining diamond (Poland commented it was clearly a fake). The fabric was incredibly soft and seemed to hug every bit and piece of skin it had contact with so very tightly, yet very tenderly, the feeling of it enough to make warmth spread in the Finn's body. The underlying fabric - the garter belt itself - was laced and had a slightly deeper nuance of white, making it stand out just vaguely from under the mini-skirt.

Both mini-skirt and garter belt seemed to do something about Finland's hips. Somehow, it made them look a little tad bigger, gave them a figure, like there was more meat on them than there actually was. He liked that. Somehow. When he tryingly moved them to see how it looked his face got painted a deep crimson. Not because of the fact that he apparently could sway his hips enough to make even Poland look impressed. But because the fabrics made the moves seem more refined, more interesting. One would maybe even call it seductive, the way his hips slowly, daintily snapped to the sides, first left, then right, right again, tryingly a bit sharper to the left.

Finland was so caught up in this that he was first brought back to reality when he heard a loud coughing noise and the words "I will be in the kitchen to make some coffee," whereupon he saw Estonia leave the room, accompanied by Lithuania and Latvia. All men had red ears and a light pink spread over their necks. Knowing that he had been the reason for this, Finland couldn't help a small giggle but he had dignity enough to stop his swaying, instead settling with looking at the stockings he hadn't been paying much attention to.

To match the rest of the outfit so far, they were also white as pure snow and were decorated with small bows on the rim. They were hugging his legs tightly yet gently, giving them a slightly more endearing curve than normally and made them seem longer as well.

The Finn swallowed heavily, feeling his heart try to jump out through his mouth. He rarely admitted that he looked good. But now... he nearly felt it. It almost felt as if he liked this look.

And he wasn't even wearing the dress yet.

* * *

The tuxedo felt weird. It was too tight and it was hard to breathe right. Or maybe it was just the deafening sound and the excessive pace of his heart that made it so?

Either way, it didn't help when a bow tiewas added to it, making him growl lightly when it was tied around his neck and the band was hid beneath the collar of his shirt.

Sweden was stiff as a board when he stood in front of the mirror and stared at himself. He was pretty sure he had never been wearing clothes this formal before. Even his attire at the burial had been more relaxed, even if only a little. And people willingly wore this kind of clothes every day for their job?

Sweden would never learn to understand that. He would by far prefer his clothes to be relaxed and casual when he was working than looking like a penguin. But then again, he wasn't exactly a businessman and when working with metres of wood, boards, buckets of paint and different kinds of machinery, it was probably the cleverest to wearsomething he could easily move around in. No suits and ties for him, please.

"Yo, big beast, you got your vows?" Denmark asked him and snapped his fingers in front of the Swede's face, instantly earning him attention.

"'Course I do," he mumbled and sent a nervous look at the door to a closed room beside the television. That room was his primary office and he had all of his important documents in there, meaning that also the cards with his vows were in there. "Wou'd never forget such a thin', idiot."

"That's my man!" Denmark cheered and stepped in front of the slightly bigger man with a concentrated expression on his face, though there was somehow still room for the trademark grin he was always wearing, fingers expertly fumbling a bit with the shining black bow tie. "How is it?"

"Tight. 'N' warm."

"Awesome, then everything is as it should be!"

"Ya're supposed t' fe'l ya're bein' choked?"

"Pretty much, yeah. But hey, then it's much better when you finally get it off, eh? Heh heh heh," Denmark stated jokingly and was instantly shot a glance that could make even the bravest and cleverest man flee with the screams of a little girl. Of course, Denmark didn't do that. He just continued to fumble with the clothes, smoothening the lapels and the sleeves, fingers quickly dancing over the buttons and the cuffs to make sure they were sitting perfectly.

You would easily get the impression thathe was the nervous one. While Sweden's face only showed a bit of the huge amount of nervousness he felt, Denmark showed it all. His brows were constantly furrowed and he had been unnaturally flummoxed and clumsy when helping Sweden get dressed. A look of concentration had been covering his face since he got the tuxedo out of the garment bag and stripped the Swede of his normal clothing.

But when the Dane finally backed away to let the other look at himself in the mirror, the Swede could feel his heart stop its excessive beating, stilling for a long moment that seemed to last an eternity as he took in the picture presented to him.

It was him. There could be no doubt in this. The cold and hard stare that only seemed a slightly bit softer, his royal-blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses that seemed to accompany his face in a completely new way. But they weren't new, those glasses. He had had them since forever, they had just been put away in a drawer in some room. Denmark had found them for him when he made a quick but professional raid of his home.

The hair was blond and slightly damp after he had been forced to take a shower, an indefatigable Denmark walking behind him like a wolf after a dying prey. Sweden had denied obeying the man until Denmark threatened with tying him up and cleaning Sweden himself. This had worked like a charm and the water was running about a minute later. Now, fortunately, the water that was still in his hair seemed to have understood that he was not interested in wet trails down his neck at the moment and therefore didn't trail down as it normally would.

But then there was the outfit... As said earlier, a tuxedo, it was double-breasted and it was black. Pitch-black. It sat tightly around his giant and muscular body, so tightly you could see the exact figure. And yet, it wasn't so tight it didn't fit him. It had just the right size. The lapels were wide and seemed somewhat alluring with the way the white shirt underneath was visible. The shirt had black buttons, managing to create an interesting contrast.

On the tuxedo's left side was a small breast pocket in which a piece of cloth hid, barely visible over the edge of the pocket. This little cloth had two tasks today: one was to function as anelegant decoration for the rest of the outfit. The other was to function as something to clean his glasses with if –most likely _when_- they got dirty.

Beside the tuxedo, he was wearing a matching pair of pitch-black trousers that were fastened around his waist with a dark brown belt with a silver buckle. Ona small table behind him, there were two pair of gloves. One was as black as the tuxedo while the other was as white as snow. Sweden was in doubt aboutwhich pair would look the best and he had not thought Denmark's "Take one of each!" a good advice.

His feet were clad in new and black, polished shoes that had the smallest hint of a heel, just to make him a few centimetres taller. Which was, of course, very much needed. (Read the sarcasm)**  
**  
"Imagine Finny's face if you wore your Swedish gloves, though," the Dane commented and turned around to walk into Sweden's office, probably to find the vows. He didn't get that far, as Sweden suddenly had a hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping tightly around it to prevent him from moving even an inch further away.

Norway and Iceland followed the scenario with indifferent gazes.

"Don' even think 'bout it," he growled and somehow managed to turn the other around with only one hand. The other was lingering just above the gloves. Denmark grinned up at him, the smile as wide and mischievous as it always has.

"Come on, I'm your best man, right?"

"Ja. 'N' that's exactly why ya can't see 'em. Ya will hear 'em in the church." In the church. It sounded so... so unbelievable. It was actually going to happen. And in just a few hours, too. It was magical and Sweden could feel his heart beat approvingly of his thoughts, making his chest tighten for a long second. So soon.

And he was ready. He had his clothes, he had been forced to live through Denmark's sprays of cologne and insisting words of "Let me fix your hair" or "You look damn pale!" followed by a brush with rouge. Where Denmark had it from, Sweden didn't know and he didn't care, either, simply slapped it away with a warning growl.

The Swede glanced at the clock. Then felt his heart start to beat faster. They could as well just be going now. They would be arriving a little early but rather too early than too late. Very much so. And there would probably be some late morning-traffic.

Sweden looked down at the gloves for another two seconds before he decided not to wear any, went into his office and took the cards, then showed up in the living room once more, eyes focusing on the others as his heart seemed to block his air passages.

"Com' on," he mumbled and flung a jacket over his shoulder. Denmark made an approving noise and instantly followed after the Swede while Norway and Iceland followed with more calm steps.

At this point in time, Denmark was kind of glad Sweden didn't look at him. His eyes were shining with something very much bordering to happiness and though he hated to admit it, he was for once happy on Sweden's behalf. That Finland had finally grown some balls and found together with the giant, silent man walking in front of him. When the rare opportunities of driving together happened, Denmark would always insist on being the driver. His reason was quite idiotic, as was everything about him.

"You're so gay you can't even drive straight."

And it always earned him a hard slap over the head.

They might be archenemies, Sweden and Denmark, but there were still times when they would care about each other. They would just never let others know about it.

* * *

The dress was on. And Finland had a hard time fathoming that it was him who looked back from the depths of the mirror. That it was his glistening, violet orbs staring back at him, his shaking arms that gripped his own sides, both in and outside the mirror, grabbing the soft fabric of the dress.

Fingers tangled themselves in feathery cotton frills that curled and bent elegantly over each other, hiding yet not hiding black and silver swirls made of the softest satin your dreams could make up. From his waist and down, the dress got wider and small but long slits and partings in the fabric gave you a view to beautiful curls in pitch-black and dark silver. The curls would somewhere tangle with each other, creating playful patterns and interesting figures a child could use hours staring at, trying to decide where which colour should be applied, had the dress been a piece of paper.

The slits were widest at the end, got more and more narrow as you moved your gaze upwards, and effectively covered up the curls and swirls until they completely disappeared by the waist. From there on and up, the dress was a gorgeous piece of clothes that seemed to be covered in tiny, tiny pieces of glitter and shining material. It wasn't real or fake diamonds, neither was it sequin, it was just something that gave the white fabric a touch of incredible elegance. The dress ended just a bit over the place a woman's breasts would have been. The rim was decorated with a thin, so very thin brim of blue silk that created a great contrast to all the white and black.

Finland was stunned as he let his trembling fingers run through the frills, fingertips gently brushing the beginning of the slits, trying to feel if the swirls and curls were just prints but no; they were real, sewn into the fabric so as to make them permanent.

He felt again and again, let his hands wander over his stomach, not even close to be able to feel his skin that he was sure radiated enough heat to make his saunas comfortable. It was soft, so very soft, the dress. And the corset, too. If he concentrated and rubbed a bit harder, he could feel the strings in the corset, the long and thin but incredibly strong wires that held the corset up and both gave Finland posture and tied in his stomach, giving him a hint of female curves. As fingers slowly, shakingly, ran over the small and lightly shining objects that weren't quite sequins or diamonds, he could feel his face heat up violently.

"It's a total shame you haven't got longer hair, though," Poland commented from somewhere that seemed far away from Finland who just kept staring at himself, still not able to fathom it was him he could see in the mirror. It was so unreal... He had picked the dress himself and had been given advice by France and Poland - a thing that Finland intended to not tell Sweden unless said man asked - who had been eager to assist him, blabbering on about how he should bring out the colour of his eyes, make sure his adorable hips should stand out and become more noticeable and so on. Finland had just been happy they would help him. He didn't know anything about wedding dresses.

"Think you'd look rad with a high pony-tail. Buuuut, guess we'll just have to work with that we have, eh?"

The Finn finally seemed to be called back to reality. He blinked slowly, then found the Pole's face that was shining with eagerness and excitement.

"Hallo, anyone home?" the man said and tapped Finland's temples, making the man smile widely.

"Sure. Just a bit... overwhelmed."

"Aah, that's, like, totally understandable. First time wearing a dress and all."

"And I'm getting married." _Married_.

"Aaand, you're getting married. 'Course, 'course." Poland shot him a wide grin - not too far off from Denmark's usual expression - and handed Finland the veil. The ring to which the tulle was attached was placed on top of the Finn's head and Poland used a small brush to make the hair cover the ring as well as possible.

"Like this, you can't even see it. I'm a genius!" the man chirped and backed away a bit, letting Finland tip and raise his head a bit, then gently move it to the sides. Completely invisible.

"Want some make-up? I think it'd do you good."

The Finn looked at the other blond who nodded at a table behind them. He turned around and studied the tons of make-up presented to him. He didn't even know the names of half the items. Eyeliner, lipstick and rouge, though, he instantly recognized.

Finland bit his lips, not quite sure ifhe wanted that. It might make him look too feminine...

"Eeh, listen here, Finny," Poland said, seemingly having discarded his anxiety of strangers at the moment, and grabbed Finland's cheek, making him look at the Pole. "Rouge would make you seem more alive, pardon the choice of word, and you would look a little healthier." A poke was given to his ribs to prove his point. "See, I've got both red and golden brown. It's a light nuance so it won't look too heavy or awkward on you. 'Sides, some eyeliner would give you a more charming look. Not that you need that but you'd make big Sweden go totally nuts."

_Like it won't be bad enough I'm in a dress_, Finland thought and fought off a roll of his eyes. His lips were curled in a wide smile, though.

"Not going to say anything about mascara?" he asked. Poland beamed at him.

"Well, now I am! You know, mascara would totally bring out the colour of your eyes and would make you look more alluring. But then again, don't think Sweden can take much more. Just those moves with your hips? He won't be able to resist you. And if you got some lipstick, too, you'd totally be able to mark him your own!"

_I have other ways to do that_, the Finn silently hummed to himself as he allowed Poland to put on just a bit of rouge on his cheekbones and cheeks, the colour chosen the light golden brown that provided his smiling face a healthy colour and indeed make it look like there was more meat on his cheekbones. A nearly invisible touch of violet mascara was applied to his eyelashes and though it was nothing more than a single brush of the pen, it somehow made his eyes look bigger and the colour of them was brought out like Poland had said. Finland stopped it there before he ended up feeling like a doll, saying that this was enough. The Pole shrugged and packed away the make-up just as Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia emerged from the kitchen, chatting lively in their own languages.

They seemed to be ready to faint when their eyes fell on the Finn. A long silence stretched out between them where Finland just looked at them, beginning to fidget nervously with his fingers when they didn't say anything. How did he look in other's eyes? He knew that he felt incredibly - and unnervingly - comfortable with himself, even if the dress and corset hindered his movements just a bit. But what about others?

In reality, he only truly cared about how Sweden would see him, what he would make the giant man feel and how he would react to seeing him like this. He could feel a blush crawl out underneath the rouge and now blessed the invention for covering it so well.

"Eesti?" he said anxiously, soon becoming desperate for an answer to his unspoken questions. The bespectacled man stared for a few seconds longer, then cleared his throat and began to move towards him.

"You..." he started but choked halfway through the words and had to start over. "You look... almost like someone I would date. But you still have... a masculine touch, somehow. I think Sweden will be very happy about seeing you like this." Knowing that this was the biggest praise you could get from a straight man when facing his best friend in a wedding dress and with make-up, Finland smiled even wider and he closed the small gap between them to give him a tight hug.

"Thank you," the Finn mumbled and gave him a tight squeeze before letting go of him. Estonia smiled at him and there was genuine happiness in his eyes. Finland then turned to the others, biting his lips to prevent the question he knew they knew he was about to ask.

"Don't bite your lips, you will, like, ruin them!" Poland instantly ordered but it just made the Finn chuckle a bit and Lithuania gave his friend a soft smile.

"You are very pretty," the brunette said kindly and studied Finland's appearance a bit closer, daring to take a step towards him. "I personally wouldn't date you but that's entirely because I'm straight. Mr. Sweden will indeed be pleased." Lithuania looked sincere and you could never believe his smile to be fake. It was as real and true as Sweden being homosexual.

_You bet he will._

The Latvian didn't say anything but just nodded to show that he agreed with his 'brothers'.

* * *

As Denmark steadily and expertly drove the big Volvo through the streets and towards the chosen church, the two archenemies - for once - talked freely and willingly. There was mocking and insulting but that was just how they were. No good conversation without a couple of insults. Viking-aged insults scored more points than modern ones.

Meanwhile while this took place, Sweden was looking at the small card he would soon be hiding in his chest pocket along with the cloth. On the paper were scribbled many words with a neat and tight handwriting, small words that served as a reminder to what he should say next. He read them even if he already knew them, and the sentences in which they fit, by heart. He had practiced them for days, reciting them in front of the mirror, imaging his adorable Finn to stand before him instead of a big and intimidating guy.

They reached the outskirts of the city and the traffic got lighter and it became easier to manoeuvre through narrow places.

"Have you seen Finny's dress?" Denmark decided to ask him as they stopped for red light. Norway and Iceland were completely quiet in the back.

Sweden shook his head, still focusing on the card, forming every word with his mouth yet without uttering a single sound.

"Heh. Will be interesting, then. Bet you're excited?"

Sweden nodded.

"'Course I am. It's Tino, right? 'Course I'd be excited."

The Dane grinned and sped up when the light turned green. And in the distance, if you looked closely, you would be able to see the tower of an old church.

* * *

**Right, this is the first part of the wedding-thing. I deeply and sincerely apologize if you find it wrong to have Finland in a wedding dress but I have had it planned for ages.  
Translations:**

_Ja = Yes_(Swedish; also working in Danish and Norwegian)

_Eesti_ = _Estonia_ (Finnish as well as Estonian)


	5. I do

**I don't own Hetalia, nor do I own the characters, this is entirely for the sake of the fandom and me.  
Thanks to DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D**

**Warnings: Finland in dress, Sweden and Denmark acting like friends, Sweden being emotional, Danish and Swedish ahead. FLUFF and FEELS.**

* * *

As traditions prescribed, the 'bride' was the last to arrive to the church. Finland had been wriggling around in the car out of pure anxiety, his heart beating too fast and his eyes constantly flickering over the surroundings. Estonia had tried to calm him down by saying things like "It's going to be okay, Finny, you have nothing to fear!" and "It will soon be over with and you will soon be married, calm down!" with a genuinely happy voice. There could be no doubt that even if Estonia was as straight as a spread-out string, he was incredibly happy about Finland and Sweden's marriage.

The words had no effect on the Finn, though, and he mumbled something incomprehensible while looking at his friend for a moment before dragging his gaze outside once more.

He nearly had a heart-attack when he saw the silhouette of the church he knew he would be wed in.

It was a tall and majestic building, old and marked by time and weather but still so incredibly beautiful in its own way. Vines decorated the outsides with long and complex systems but were being tamed in a way so they didn't grow over the windows. The church was built of giant and dark granite boulders and the door was heavy and made of thick mahogany.

And though the church was impressive and magnificent, it was something else that caught Finland's gaze when the car slowed down and finally stopped, wheels crunching against the gravel.

A black Volvo in which four people were seated. Two of them big, tall and blond, the others smaller and one of them with grey hair.

"Eesti, hold me, man," the Finn choked out and grabbed Estonia's hand before the man could do anything. "He's right there. Eesti, I'm scared, why am I scared? What if he thinks I've gone all out, too much? What if he doesn't like it? What if-"

"Finny," Estonia said with a firm voice and somehow managed to wriggle out of the other's grip. He opened the door in his side simultaneously with Poland who sat behind him and it hadn't missed his attention that the people in the other car had seen them. One of them seemed to punch the other gently and that man's door was slowly opened. It took so long that Estonia had time enough to go to Finland's door, open it and reach his hand to the Finn. "No more if's and no more but's. You've been looking forward to this and so has Sweden. He will love you no matter how you look. Man up and show what Finns are made of, will you?"

The last was said with an uncharacteristically wide smile but it somehow looked good on him. Finland looked up at him, the gorgeous amethysts seemingly shining even more and having even more depth than usually because of the make-up. He couldn't. He felt sick, the way his heart was pounding and he was pretty sure he could feel sweat on his forehead already.

But he didn't get to cower away any further because Estonia tugged at his hand and forced him to follow the movement so he wouldn't fall face-first into the gravel and thereby make himself and the dress dirty.

"Sorry," he mumbled and noticed how his chest seemed to tighten when he saw a giant blond man get out of the other car, clad in a tuxedo darker than the night. "I... Of course I can."

He didn't even notice the other people and the other nations around him when he anxiously moved over the gravel. The giant man he knew all too well was standing completely still and none of the other persons in the Volvo had moved out yet. But he could practically feel Denmark's grin at his neck when he breathlessly moved up beside Sweden.

"Hej," he whispered. His tongue felt too thick and too heavy, how was it even possible to breathe? How did he speak when the muscle had to have taken double size? Finland's throat had never been this dry. Carefully, ever so carefully, he somehow managed to move his arm up a bit and wriggle it under Sweden's. The man's body stiffened and he seemed unable to look to the side, unable to face his soon-to-be wife.

But he did.

And when he did, Sweden was pretty sure he had to possess some kind of supernatural powers to not simply faint directly on the spot. Right there, Finland stood and Sweden felt pretty confident in saying that he had never thought Finland could look this gorgeous. His pretty lips were trembling lightly in anxiety, his eyes glistening and holding an impossible depth that would drown him if he looked for too long. Cheeks flushed but with a healthy golden brown colour that nearly made his thin face look like normal. And, was that mascara on his eyelashes?, he was wearing eyeliner, only making the prettiest amethysts known to human even prettier.

Sweden looked further down and by God, did he have to clench the car behind him, seeking for support the Finn couldn't give him, no matter the strength he might hold at the moment. How could he do that? His little, precious Finland, how could he make him flush like that, his cheeks going shamefully red as he struggled to take in the picture of Finland in such a gorgeous dress. It hugged him so perfectly, bringing out his figure so clearly it should be a sin. And in the late afternoon sun, strong rays fell on the man and made him shine like the many thousands diamonds Sweden would give him if he asked for just one.

Sweden was speechless. He was never a man ofmany words but if he had something to say, he usually stated it. Sometimes. Right now, though, there was nothing he could say that seemed fair. Nothing that came to mind seemed to even start to respect the way his ravishing Tino looked. If he said 'You look so beautiful' it would be the understatement of the year and if he said 'I will never meet a beauty like you' it would be an insult to Tino's look. Nothing could compare.

So instead of trying to find words that wouldn't sound stupid or even ridiculous, the Swede settled with putting his hand over Finland's. If it was his own hand that trembled so much or if it was Tino's he didn't know. It could very well have been both of them.

"Hej," he managed to breathe out. His posture was failing him dramatically and he was impossibly weakened by Finland's appearance. Butterflies flapped around in his stomach and he was as nervous as any young teenage boy who had gotten a date with the class' hot and popular girl.

"Hvad fanden venter du på, dit store brød? Off you go!" Denmark shouted as he went past them with the Baltics, the other Nordics and Poland. Estonia sent Finland a thumb up and a wide smile before he disappeared into the church as the last.

A long moment of total silence followed the two before they finally managed to move forward. Both pair of feet moved awkwardly and shakingly, not at all steady or in tact but neither of the two nations could really think of the tact. They were both too nervous and just a bit drunk on happiness.

As they moved to the door and waited for the music to begin, Sweden quickly went through his vows one last time before he would recite them. In truth, it wasn't a lot he had to say. It was more like an appetizer to the speech he would have to hold later on, at the reception.

In Finland's mind, nothing but Sweden existed. There was no room for the vows he had prepared and he was pretty certain he wouldn't have air to speak them when the time came.

Then they moved through the heavy mahogany doors, stepped inside the porch and continued forward, reached the door to the nave and then the music started playing. It was the traditional wedding march. Slow and calm, without any haste, and Sweden and Finland somehow, by a magical coincidence, managed to follow the tact and the pace, feet finding safety in the music.

The guests rose, a whistling going through the church. Finland was about to stop, the sudden movement startling him but Sweden seemed to have gotten some of his confidence back, continuing forward with the same pace as always and automatically making the Finn follow again.

The music continued, the sound of a mighty pipe organ playing out the notes so perfectly, C major easily recognizable for the trained ear. Finland couldn't pay it too much attention, though. He could only look forward, feel his arm under Sweden's. Sweden's hand on his. Sweden's hand that was also shaking.

As weird as it was, that brought him a little bit of ease. Sweden was also very nervous. It was okay to be nervous, right? Of course it was. There was nothing wrong with being nervous. It was only natural and really, wouldn't you be kind of stupid to not be nervous?

They reached the altar where the priest stood along with Estonia and Denmark. Both were clad in nice clothes, grey suits with white shirts and grey ties. They were smiling widely and though it was normal for the Dane, it looked nearly unnatural on the other. It suited him, though. If only he would smile some more.

And finally, when Finland and Sweden stood in front of the priest, shaking with nervousness and a so deep happiness it could be felt into the innermost chambers of their hearts, the music stopped playing, dying out with a loud tone before the guests sat down, creating another whistling.

There was silence for a few seconds before the priest opened his mouth and started speaking. The tongue used was English, out of consideration for all the other nations that weren't familiar with neither Swedish nor Finnish. He was speaking a prayer for them, Finland realized and felt his face crack into a giant smile.

He looked over at Sweden whose lips were twitching, as if he was so close to smiling, yet something was stopping him. Finland didn't use a second to think about his action before he removed his arm and the impossibly short second before he grabbed Sweden's hands, the man looked shocked. But when their hands made contact and they were facing each other, the smile finally showed up and let a - to others - unknown warmth spread over his face and he looked relaxed. Even if his hands were still trembling against Finland's, he felt a bit more at ease by the closer contact.

It only got better when he could feel the incredible heat radiate from the other's skin and when he could feel small beads of sweat appear on it, mixing with his own. His smile widened and he let out a deep breath he had only been vaguely aware of having held. Finland... his wife in so short time. Those beautiful, gorgeous, shining amethysts. The blushing cheeks and perfect lips that had been left natural, he could now see. Shaking fingers that were holding maybe a bit too tight around his hand, making the knuckles turn white. Feet that shifted every so often.

It was all his. In short time, it would officially be all his. And he would take pleasure in caring for him, take pleasure in bringing him back to his normal health, take pleasure in making him happy. He would take pleasure in simply being with Finland, with Tino, every single day for the rest of his life.

And, as weird and sudden it was, he remembered one of his old wedding traditions. That to show you wore the pants in the marriage, you would have to say 'Ja' the loudest. And by God, did Sweden plan to win that. It was a sudden spur of the moment idea but when the priest asked him, he didn't doubt in carrying it out.

"Berwald Oxenstierna, is it your certainty that the love you cherish for Tino Väinämöinen is of such a nature that you will continue to create it, sick or healthy, in adversity as well as in success? Can you confront and forgive his imperfections-"

_What imperfections?_thought the Swede as he struggled with getting his tongue right and his throat seemed inhumanly dry and he momentarily feared he wouldn't be able to give a coherent and understandable 'Ja'.

"- with the same ease you rate his many admirable abilities?"

But it was surprisingly easy when all came to all.

"Ja!" His voice resonated in the entire building, hitting the walls with such a power it bounded right off and came back at them, starting poor little Finland and making his eyes go wide but the smile only grew. Water began to creep into the corners of his eyes.

"And have you communicated your love to Tino Väinämöinen?"

If he had?

"Ja!" he repeated, voice as loud as before and his chest swelling with pride that threatened with splitting him in two and ripping the tight tuxedo apart. No one could raise their voice as much as himand he certainly didn't believe Tino to be able to, either. He didn't even know if Tino knew what he was on about, the thing with saying 'Ja' that loud. If he wasn't... well, bad luck for Finny.

The priest went on, now turning to the Finn who looked happier than ever. And if the water was any indication, it was happiness so big that it couldn't be contained within himself.

"Tino Väinämöinen, have you acknowledged Berwald Oxenstierna's love?"

The answer given was much more timid and nearly made Sweden's heart break with a sudden urge to laugh at the adorableness of his wife.

"Ja." It was quiet and timid but it was easily audible and the Swede seemed to grow even bigger by this, the knowledge of Finland finally accepting him completely almost making his heart beat hard and fast enough to break free of its restraints.

"Tino Väinämöinen, is it your certainty that the love you cherish for Berwald Oxenstierna is of such a nature that you will continue to create it, sick or healthy, in adversity as well as in success? Can you confront and forgive his imperfections with the same ease you rate his many admirable abilities?"

"Ja." It was as timid as the first time but there was more power in it, somehow. Finland had gotten his confidence back, there could be no doubt, and his chest also seemed to swell with immense pride as his eyes bore directly and deeply into Sweden's, piercing him and making him feel like glued to the floor.

"And have you communicated your love to Berwald Oxenstierna?"

"Ja!" He had finally gotten it. The voice had gotten louder and the smile had turned a tiny bit mischievous, knowledge apparently starting to knock on the front door.

_Too bad for you I get one more round,_Sweden thought and tried not to look like a creepy molester when he tryingly cringed his lips a bit, making his smile the tiniest bit crooked and devilish, hoping to signalize some of his thoughts to the Finn in front of him.

The priest turned to Sweden again.

"Berwald Oxenstierna, have you acknowledged Tino Väinämöinen's love?"

"Ja!" It was the roar of the lion he had once been. The kind of roar that is stuck in the predator's throat when it has hunted down it's pray but not yet let the teeth sink into still warm flesh. That special kind of roar that is only given when you have utmost victory, utmost success. The roar resonated in the entire room, loud enough to make some of the nations jump and yelp. They were certainly not used to this loudness. But out of the corner of his eyes, just inside the small space of his glasses, he could see several of his guests grin and nod approvingly.

Especially his boss looked approving. Berwald was making his nation proud.

Their grips tightened and Sweden knew that in this moment, when they had already accepted each other and just needed a few more words and the rings to confirm it, that in this moment where he had never felt more alive and more proud, that in this moment where he simply felt happiness - pure, deeply felt and genuine happiness - that his face showed all of this. He knew the way his eyes shone and had taken the form of endless pools, ready to swallow you up if you weren't careful, and he knew the warmth his face showed, the genuine care and affection it presented to the man before him. Sweden knew the way his fingers had suddenly stilled, their trembling having stopped, knew the way his air passages still seemed tight and too narrow for air to pass through. The way the tongue was heavy and limp, not willing to cooperate any further.

But he only knew it because of the exact man in front of him. Only because of Tino did he know the beating of a heart in deep and hopeless love. Only because of Tino did he know the fluster and the anxiety of feeling such intent affection for another person. It was only because of Tino that he felt hot water press into his eyes and only when Tino paled under the alluring hint of rouge before blushing brighter, clearer and more charming than the sun setting over endless areas of steppe, did he feel the exact same water slowly slide down his face.

It seemed like time stopped. Everything stopped. None of the people present were breathing, not a muscle was moved, not even an eyelash moving in a breeze they couldn't catch. And right then, in that moment that time stopped moving and seconds didn't matter, when everything was eternal and none could break away from anyone, when everybody could live happily ever after with their chosen one, did all of the attendants, without exception, stare at Sweden.

Every pair of eyes in the building was directed at him and he found that he couldn't care less. He could feel the heaviness of the gazes, invisible weights being put upon his shoulders and his back, trying to weigh him down. But none succeeded. None of the gazes managed to do just that, none could bring him to his knees in defeat. Because even though more water leaked from his round and deep blue eyes and he could feel the hot trail over his cheeks, the painful tightening of his chest, his lungs, his very heart, he knew that it was only for Finland.

Only for Finland would he cry and only for Finland would he ever present the tears. He didn't care there were other people present; they didn't matter in this moment when time was a thing too abstract to be possible. His tears were only for Finland and they would never belong to anyone else but him.

It was like being forced back into reality with a hard hit of a book with more than a thousand pages when he blinked a single time and in the short second he blocked out the sight of Finland, time started to matter once more. Once more did people move but there was still complete silence. The guests blinked rapidly as they continued to stare at the giant Swede with the leaking eyes. **  
**  
Even the priest seemed a little affected. He had wed a lot of people but never one as intimidating and expressionless as Sweden and seeing the man suddenly show this kind of emotion was something entirely new to him. He proceeded without too long a break, though.

And Sweden realized that he hadn't been listening to whatever the priest had been saying after he and Finland had confirmed their love. Because he knew that there was something between that and the exchange of rings. All of a sudden, he felt his heart jump into his throat and it was once more hard to breathe. The rings. The vows. It was soon now, it was very soon, actually.

The butterflies were awakened once more, spreading their coloured and flamboyant wings, getting ready to flap around anew.

Air passed beside him and he recognized Denmark's scent. Then there was a person by Finland. Estonia.

But before they got out the rings, Finland and Sweden opened their mouths simultaneously to say their vows. A moment of surprise, then light chuckling in the church.

"Ladies first," the Swede said, voice only shaking a tiny bit though the tears hadn't ceased falling.

"Ever the gentleman," Finland replied before he cleared his throat. The emotions were much clearer in his voice when he started to speak. Water was also seeping from his eyes and Sweden was momentarily surprised to not see the tears being small and glistening amethysts, being the results of the bigger ones staring so intently at him.

"When you first found me, I was impossibly scared." More light chuckling and Sweden's smile grew a tad wider. "You were this huge and intimidating dude that never said or showed anything. You were like a bold coc-... cold block! Cold block, cold block. You were like a _cold block_of ice and at first I didn't think I would ever get along with you. But time changes things and so they changed me. Well, that was embarrassing," he quietly added, blushing furiously and looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

_Yeah, four hundred and forty six years is certainly some time_, the Swede thought to himself, feeling the formerly mentioned butterflies start to flap their wings, though not leaving safe ground just yet. Had he not been so deeply affected by Finland, his looks, his words, just his entire being, he would maybe have laughed at the little mess-up. Now, he could only find it incredibly charming, adorable and just so _Tino_.

"And as time changed me, I slowly got to realize that maybe there was more to you than just a _cold block_of ice and I got curious. When we ran away from Matthias," he sent the Dane a telling look and got an understanding grin in return, "you were scary as ever. Didn't change when you went to boss around with Eduard, Raivis and Toris. Even Feliks got scared and he isn't even scared of Ru-... Ivan. That says something. But then, after many, many years, we were parted for a time so long it must have taken all kind of hope from you."

The violet orbs for a moment got a shine of sadness and Sweden would have reached out to pet him, to comfort him in every way possible if it wasn't because of the procedure they were supposed to follow. Instead of touching him more, he let his fingers brush against the other's, letting him know it was okay, just go on.

And so Finland did. "And you waited for me."

And it took all of Sweden's self-control to not interrupt with 'I would always wait for you'.

"You waited for so many years. You kept worrying about me, kept… sending me nice thoughts and kept giving me flowers even if you maybe didn't think I would ever get back to you.

"You..." Finland's voice broke and he had to start over. "You lo-oved me un-con-di-tio-nal-ly. I was a-always the one most import to you, n-no matter your own state." The words started to get slurred and his breathing became shallow as tears started to break their way through, shivering starting to tear at his body. "E-even if I never treated yo-you with the res-spect you deserve. I-I realiz-zed this and also found... p-pure love for you. Only love. N-Nothing else."

The shine of sadness was now long gone, not even a ghost pulling a thin sheet of depression over his wonderful irises.

"Jag älskar dig, Berwald Oxenstierna."

It was the first time he had said it so formally and with eyes that shone that much. The first time he had said it while tears streamed down his face but only accompanied him in looking so joyous. It was better than watching the sun rise after a long night, better than the long walks in a silent and beautiful forest. Better than anything Sweden had ever imagined could be wonderful.

Of course, Finland was all that. All that Sweden cherished and all that Sweden had ever held dear.

But Finland was so much more. So much more that Sweden could never hope to describe with words.

It required close to half a moment and a gentle nudge from Denmark before his mind reminded itself of the fact that it was now his turn to say his vows.

And unlike Finland who had seemed so confident and sure of himself, the Swede was now actually scared of having to say the things he had planned for so long. Because now they were gone. He could remember absolutely nothing of what he had written; none of the words seemed to come to mind.

Cold sweat sprung forth on his forehead and his hands started shaking again. He cleared his throat, trying to buy himself some more time until the words would pop back to his brain.

It didn't happen.

He was doomed. People were waiting, Denmark was waiting, and _Tino_was waiting.

He let his tongue slip out, wetting his too dry lips before parting them, taking the first deep breath. Improvise, you big fool!

"When... I first found you, I knew it was you. Like, of course you are you but just... not as in 'Tino' but as in 'you're the one for me'." Great. He was fucking up already now. This would surely make his ancestors proud. He didn't even want to know how his boss was looking.

Finland didn't seem to mind, though. In fact, his smile seemed to have widened drastically.

"Since then, there has been no one else but you. If someone built up the courage to talk to me, I wouldn't pay them much attention. Only you. I had only room for you in my mind and you were also the only one who ever tried to understand me. You were scared shi-... so scared of me and yet, you tried to learn who I was and why I was as I was. No one else did that."

He was painfully aware of the way he had messed up in the beginning and he wanted to bury himself. But he just continued, words slowly beginning to come back as he spoke.

"And the more you understood, the calmer you seemed to be around me. I can't... even begin to describe how happy that made me. I didn't need your love because just you... you being there, being with me, just knowing that you wanted to get to know me, made me happier than... than anything I can remember."

Happier than taking over other parts of the world. The victories in Russia and England didn't mean anything compared to Finland sitting beside him, chattering the day or the night away. Nothing would ever be able to compare to that.

"I've always loved you, Tino, you know that, and yet you kept around. You weren't intimidated by this fact, except for in the beginning, and when you had had time to think it through, you remained by my side. I never thought I could be any happier. You were everything I could ever think of, you were everything my dreams resolved around and no matter my condition, you would always be in my mind.

"When you left, I thought I would die. The only person I had ever loved was now gone and I was sure I would never see you again. I was sure my life would take an end right there, that I wouldn't be able to stand the pain in which you left me. But at the same time, the thought of you made me stick around, kept me to life. It was as if you gave me something to live for, to hope for. If I died and you got back, by some miracle, who should then care for you? None would do as good a job as I would."

A small giggle escaped Finland's lips.

"And when you said you returned my love... I can't think of words that describe that feeling well enough. The closest I get is happiness, euphoria, and simply love."

He took in another deep breath and focused all his energy, all of his love, hoping to send over some of his own beating heart so Finland would always have a piece of him.

"Minä rakastan sinua, Tino Väinämöinen."

He watched as the smaller man trembled wildly, tears creating long, red lines from his eyes and to his chin, continuing down his throat and under the confinements of the dress. His lips were quivering and though he showed every sign of sadness, Sweden knew different. As much as this could look like gloominess, like only dark thoughts and ideas were filling his pretty little head, it was nothing but happiness and true affection.

And with that, their vows were over and the priest was the one to speak again and though he seemed controlled and calm as always, you could hear a surprised and touched undertone in his voice if you listened carefully.

Denmark and Estonia moved nearly simultaneously when they pulled out a small but fine box, opened it and gave the priest a ring each. Sweden's breath hitched in his throat. Soon. Very soon would one of those rings sit on his finger and the other would sit on Finland's.

One of them was given to him and he broke contact with Finland's hands shortly to accept it. It was a heavy ring made of the purest silver he had been able to procure. All the way around it were two stripes of shining gold and the two colours made a slight, ever so slight wave, bending up, then down in soft curves. At one place was a very real diamond planted, its many facets reflecting the lights around them.

"Berwald Oxenstierna, will you take this ring and with the following words put it on Tino Väinämöinen's finger:

"With this symbol of my love-"

Sweden recited it, voice once more beginning to shake, to waver as he took a gentle grip of Finland's left hand, looking directly into his eyes.

"I take you, Tino Väinämöinen,-"

He repeated them, watching as perfect droplets continued to roll over Finland's blushing cheeks. Vaguely did he note how rouge, mascara and eyeliner stayed in place, not running in the slightest.

"as my married wife."

He would have to thank whoever had helped Finland with that. Later.

"I promise to keep my love for you-"

Was it really his voice that was shaking so much? Seriously?

"forever alive, forever real."

The ring slid over the thin ring finger that also trembled greatly and he could hear the breath hitch in Finland's throat when he let his fingers rest on the hand as the warm and heavy object was perfectly in place. As he looked up on the man's face, he saw the eyes being wide open and so alive. They had been dull a short time ago, when he had been found, but now they were full of life and brimming over with everything he felt. It was all poured out for Sweden to see, for Sweden to hear.

Finland did the same when he was given the ring, only changing the order of the names and changed 'wife' with 'husband'. When that happened, Sweden wanted to give a loud sob and become an impossible crybaby and he wanted to hug the man so tight that they could never let go of each other. He would ask Finland to call him 'husband' again because it brushed over something in his stomach, flipped a switch and made him all hot and bothered. Little Finland could say as many lewd and naughty things as he wanted but from this moment on, Sweden knew that it was the single word 'husband' that would make him lose his cool.

"I hereby declare Berwald Oxenstierna and Tino Väinämöinen for man and wife to be. You may now kiss the bride."

And as the roaring, deafening sound of hands that clapped, as the applause tore through the silence, Sweden didn't need to be told that twice. He carefully leaned a bit forward and with one hand gingerly grabbed around little Finland's chin, unnecessarily begging the man to move. When lips met and eyes closed it was an explosion of colours in the darkness. It was the fierce red and sign of passion and love, the calm blue and sign of trust and honesty, the vigorous green and sign of hope and life.

It was all the primary colours that mixed and resulted in a thousand more colours, each of them with yet another thousand nuances, and it was all these colours that sparked when his and Finland's lips met and they both cried in happiness, in unison and in deeply felt passion and affection.

He could feel Tino tremble in his arms as he held him tighter against his own giant body and he could feel him begin to run out of air but also feel how Tino only seemed to become more desperate to be close to him. One of his thin hands reached around Sweden's back and demanded him closer even if it was impossible. There was a slight groan, only audible to the two of them, before they parted with a small sound.

Both were out of air and it was nearly painful to suddenly have access to air, even if they had had itall the time. They had just been focused on something else, something that was more important to them. Now, as they took each other's hand again and turned around to face their guests who were still applauding - even his boss, noticed Sweden - and walked down the aisle with steps as shaking as when they had entered the church, they slowly began to feel at ease.

It was done. They were officially married and Sweden and Finland had officially merged, officially completed the alliance.

When they were out in the fresh air and they had a short moment alone before their guests would swarm around them, they exchanged another brief kiss. It was as tasty and as alluring as the first they had ever shared and Sweden was dying to get another taste when the doors opened and they quickly parted once more. Sweden knew he was blushing more than he had ever done in his entire life and though it sounds like he was bright red, his face the same deep colour as the sun setting on a late evening, this wasn't the case. The colour that spread across his cheeks and gave life to his otherwise pale face was one of dark pink, boarding to a proper red. But even if the colour itself wasn't as intense as it could be, the shine was. It could light a dark room and the shine was so strong it nearly made the colour look deeper than it actually was.

Sweden was really, truly blushing. And by God, did he feel embarrassed when Denmark strutted through the doors and pointed it out to the whole party of people that followed him.

"Well, isn't this a sight for our sore eyes!" the man exclaimed and jumped towards Sweden with the widest grin that had ever been presented to mankind. "Who knew you could be such a sappy guy, eh?! I swear, even Nor nearly cri-"

"I did not," Norway interrupted and pushed the Dane away with enough force to send him hard into the gravel in front of the church. His face wasn't as blank as usually, though, and it seemed there was something in his eyes he would never admit to. For a second he flashed a smile for them and though it wasn't wide and it wasn't as pretty as many others' - what would you expect from a man who never smiles? - it meant a lot to Sweden and Finland.

"Congratulations, Berwald, and congratulations, Tino. I hope you'll get many happy years together," he then continued and the smile died out the second he had closed his mouth. The Norwegian shook both men's hands and disappeared to find Iceland who had apparently gotten caught by Denmark.

That was the biggest congratulations you could get from a guy like him so Sweden and Finland were more than pleased with it.

And as predicted, the other nations swarmed around them few seconds later, sending their congratulations and wishes of many good years to come. Sweden watched as his wife - now 'wife' for real - greeted each and every one of them, looking so immensely happy and still with tears in his eyes, though they no longer fell. He hugged Estonia so tightly Lithuania had to save the bespectacled man from suffocation, then grabbed the brunette to show his appreciation for him, too. Poland then came to rescue his friend but was quick enough to dodge Finland's arms, effectively breaking the chain of hugging people tight enough to be the cause of death.

From there on, Finland settled with a light and quick embrace to whoever greeted him and Sweden. True to his always cold and hard nature, the Swede would only shake hands but his face that suddenly showed expressions made up for the lack of contact. He would actually _smile_to those who dared togreet him and as this got more and more known by more and more people, he eventually got to chat a bit with every one of the nations that were present. Even Poland.

When nearly all of the nations had talked to him and Finland, a group of other people started to move towards them. Finland didn't know them and instinctively got a little protective of his husband - how wonderful that sounded in his head - but the Swede calmed him down with a gentle hand on his head, brushing over the hair without messing up the veil.

"Some of my people," he mumbled and greeted the humans with surprisingly eager motions and words. They were quickly talking in Swedish. There was no problem in understanding what they were saying, even if they spoke very fastandhe let them talk, even chuckled a bit when the tallest of the humans said something funny. It didn't take long for them to say goodbye and then disappear. But just as Finland thought he had Sweden to himself again, another man stepped forward and shook the Swede's hand. He looked important.

"Hej, boss," Sweden said and nodded politely. The other was a human of average height and size for a man his age - about 45 or so, Finland would guess - and he had short and spiky black hair. His eyes were glistening green and he had a natural shine of a young school-boy over him.

"Hej!" he said with so much enthusiasm it nearly scared Finland. No one had ever talked to Sweden like that. He also said hello to Finland, shook his hand and said something in rapid Swedish and in a dialect that the Finn didn't catch and therefore just stood and stared back, completely perplex.

"He complimented you," Sweden explained before picking up an important conversation with the man. Finland didn't say anything, just blushed even deeper. Compliments were nice but he preferred to know exactly what was said. It wasn't a long conversation and when it ended, the human waved at them before nearly dancing back to a black and shining vehicle.

The only person Sweden allowed to hug him was Denmark, much to everyone's surprise. When the other tall blond moved over to him again, they seemed to measure each other with the eyes, both pair narrowed lightly but then everything you knew seemed to be thrown out the window.

Sweden pulled the other into a bone-crushing hug and whoever was lucky enough to look at his face would see a wide smile and eyes that closed in delight. The Dane seemed shocked at first, then laughed before he took his own armsfrom the other and hugged him back, pressing him closer in a brotherly way that witnessed of their relationship. They might be they archenemies of the world, way worse than France and England, but even they could find it in them to dig up the care they really did feel for each other.

Gloved fingers clenched at the grey suit, threatening with tearing long holes in it. And if you looked even closer, you could see dark stains on the shoulders of the Dane, coming from the Swede's blue and bright orbs. His body was trembling all over again and he couldn't voice whatever thought might be flying through his mind. Not even when Denmark asked in a truly surprised voice what was going on could the Swede answer. Not with words, at least. He answered by holding the man tighter and his incredible strength should have been enough to transform Denmark into powder on the ground. But Denmark was nearly equally strong and powerful and his body was tough and could take a little bit of each.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity, Sweden stopped shaking, just a little, and he got control over his voice again.

"Tack," he whispered in a rough and hoarse voice, not letting go of the Dane just yet. "För att ta del. Det betyder mycket för mig."

Denmark's eyes widened to a nearly scary size before he managed to turn his thin line of a mouth into a soft smile that didn't seem to fit him. It was too full of kindness. His normal grin was one of mischief and even if he was often smiling, it was rarely one of such genuine kindness.

His eyes softened as well when he mumbled in his own language.

"Ingen årsag, brormand. Det sker jo ikke så tit, så hvad pokker. Men lov mig at passe godt på lille Tino, eh?" He sent a look over at the Finn who looked absolutely horrified of what was going on.

"Naturligtvis," the Swede said with a smile and untangled himself from the Dane. "Jag är inte en idiot."

"Det kan diskuteres," Denmark grinned and ruffled the other's hair before he dodged a slap to the head. "See you at the reception!" He then disappeared, probably going to find Norway again and bother him some more.

Sweden lifted his hand in a partly heartily greeting before he let the hand fall onto Finland's waist. Looking down and seeing his wife's confused expression he just smiled and pressed a feathery kiss to his forehead.

"We should go, don't you think?"

"Uh... sure."

* * *

**Right, second part of wedding-thingie. Wow, this is the fluffiest stuff I have ever written and I hope it doesn't get much "worse". Also, I did my best to research on how Swedish/Finnish weddings went and this is what I came up with. They aren't quite like the American ones you see on movies, it seems. Dunno if I have made that clear. I apologize if the things the priest says sound weird; I have translated from Danish and it's hard to find proper substitutes for those formal-ish words.  
Translations:  
**_Eesti = Estonia_ (Finnish as well as Estonian) (look, I got it right the first time)

_Hej = Hello_ (Swedish (but works in Danish and Norwegian, too))

_Hvad fanden venter du på, dit store brød? __= What the hell are you waiting for, you big beast?_ (Danish, not entirely correct, but it's near impossible to translate correctly and so it sounds just somewhat decent)

_Ja (here) = I do_ (Swedish (but works in Danish and Norwegian, too))

_Jag älskar dig = I love you_ (Swedish)

_Minä rakastan sinua = I love you_ (Finnish)

_Tack = Thanks_ (Swedish)

_För att ta del. Det betyder mycket för mig. __= For taking part. It means a lot to me_ (Swedish)

_Ingen årsag, brormand. Det sker jo ikke så tit, så hvad pokker. Men lov mig at passe godt på lille Tino, eh? __= No problem, chum. Doesn't happen that often, so what the heck. But promise me to take good care of little Tino, eh?_ (Danish)

_Naturligtvis = Of course_ (Swedish)

_Jag är inte en idiot = I am not an idiot_ (Swedish)

_Det kan diskuteres = That's up for discussion _(Danish)


	6. Party time

**Right, here the next chapter is. Sorry about the wait, guys! This will be second-last chapter. (: Hope you enjoy it!  
Thanks to DancingOnRainbow for beta-reading! :D**

* * *

Sweden and Finland rode in the black Volvo to the place the reception would be held. Estonia and Denmark kept them company (or as Denmark put it "Hindered wild and exhausting sex that would make the newly-wed too tired to show up") and would pick up conversations on the way. Finland was surprised to find Estonia very talkative, especially towards Denmark. The two seemed to be great friends even though Estonia had only rarely mentioned him.

The Finn was also shocked to find that Estonia didn't mind Denmark swearing like a sailor, or that he even answered back to the insults that were occasionally thrown at him. But Finland didn't comment on it, simply focused on the man by his side. Sweden. Berwald. His husband.

He turned his head a bit and tilted it back so he could get a better look at the man. Sweden looked down as well and his face cracked into a small smile when his eyes met Finland's. Such a glint.

The Swede felt his heart stop for a second, then kick-start much faster and harder than what was healthy when Finland nuzzled closer to his arm, head boring into the black tuxedo.

"You're messing up your veil," the bigger man mumbled and took off the veil, carefully folded it and put it in the map-holder by his side.

"Just wait till I mess up you," Finland whispered. It wasn't intended to be audible for the others but he could hear Estonia choke on his coffee and the following sound of Denmark slapping his back, laughing loudly.

"That's the spirit, Finny!"

Sweden's face felt like an oven and he was very aware that this evening was going be long and hard to live through. Especially if Finland continued to say such things.

When they reached the reception, most of the others were already there. They were talking and chatting, having fun with each other. And they were all clad in nice clothes. The women - and Liechtenstein - were all wearing dresses in different colours, lengths and shapes while the men wore suits in flamboyant colours. Especially France who apparently thought that bright red would make a fabulous appearance. Passing by him, Finland whispered "Wearing red at a wedding means you've slept with the groom," and he enjoyed the shocked expression on France's face. Of all nations, Finland was very surprised that France hadn't known this, being the country of fashion and such.

As they stepped inside, they were met by a giant room in which a huge 'U' shaped formation of tables was placed. It was set with a perfectly white tablecloth that would get dirty too quickly. The plates were of gorgeous porcelain and the edge of them was decorated with a single black line that followed a peculiar but interesting pattern. By each place were three glasses; one for red wine, one for white wine and a much smaller one for the stronger alcohol. This was changed, though, by two places next to each other - Sealand and Liechtenstein. Their glasses were instead clearly made for soft drinks, like Coke or just simple water.  
Candles were also placed with regular gaps and were already lit, creating a cosy atmosphere even if the sun was still up. The light made the cutlery - finest silver you could get in Sweden - gleam feebly. To finish it all off, big bouquets of blood red roses were placed by roughly every fifth plate.

A little to the left of this giant 'U' formation was another table where all the food would be served later on, also being the place they would cut the cake together. The simple thought made Sweden's stomach do an agile back-flip and his hand tightened around Finland's. Cutting the cake. It was a thing so insignificant compared to what else had been happening - and would be happening - today and yet it made his stomach tie itself into hard and tight knots.

He felt Tino lean closer, his face gently lying on his upper arm.

"This is so magical, don't you think?" the smaller man whispered and his voice was so close to break again that Sweden could practically hear the edge in it.

"Mmh. It is. Fits you," he answered and brought an arm around the other's shoulder and squeezed him tightly.

* * *

Not too long after, they unwrapped their presents. From their Nordic friends they got different kinds of blankets, all of them in some interesting pattern, along with beautiful and expensive-looking mugs. The Germans had apparently clubbed together to give a trip around Europe, together with a box that clearly said 'From the awesome bros' which made Sweden and Finland reluctant in opening it. Inside was two bottles of lube, a blindfold and a pair of handcuffs. The Finn blushed and began to speak gibberish while the Swede simply stared at the objects, not knowing what he should feel. Just what did people think of him?

The rest of the presents were quite innocent. France and Spain gave some exotic lotion and bathing soap. From Hungary, Poland, Ukraine, Belarus and Russia they got a lot of alcohol and some make-up which left the two newly-weds confused until a telling grin flashed over both Hungary and Poland's faces. Right. Dressing up to turn on Sweden, is that it? Maybe not that innocent.

The Italians and Japan gave them cooking books filled with exotic and delicious recipes while the Baltics gave a pair of nice skis, a palette and a bundle of brushes along with some romance novels.

Not much to their surprise, there was no present from Switzerland. Instead it seemed Lichtenstein and England had clubbed together, giving Sweden and Finland beautiful clothes in form of shirts and some jeans.

* * *

"Denmark, shut up!" Finland's voice effectively cut through the Dane's loud and obnoxious voice and forced him to silence, looking over at the small man. Hungary looked amused while Switzerland's face was contorted with annoyance.

"Thank you. Now, as you can see," Finland stretched out his right arm and pointed at the giant table where food was served, "the food is ready. The first ten on this side," he pointed at said side of the table, "can go grab something to eat. Hyvää ruokahalua!"

He sat back down in his chair and picked up the conversation with Switzerland again. It showed that as long as you talked about something the Swiss had some kind of interest in, he was quite talkative. Of course, as both of them loved guns and everything that connected to shooting, a topic wasn't hard to come up with. Denmark had interrupted them in a heated discussion about which rifle was best - a Sako TRG (Finnish produced) or the SIG SG 510, which was made in Switzerland. Tino believed he had the all-convincing argument that even Switzerland used his beloved TRG-series but also showed annoyance by the fact the Swiss man had renamed them.

It was an argument that Switzerland couldn't deny but he also refused to agree with the TRG being the best of the two rifles, of course much to the Finn's frustration but he brushed it off with a chuckle and suggested they took the rifles for a test sometimes soon. Switzerland instantly agreed, wanting to defend his pride and his status as one of the countries to produce the best weapons. He knew he was unsurpassed in making handguns, anyway, so he was quite confident.

"Your rifle is way too noisy and way too heavy to carry around," the Swiss grumbled and looked longingly at the table with food. There was a platter with all kinds of cheese. Also the expensive kind that everybody knew Switzerland liked but was too tight-fisted to buy.

Finland chuckled.

"It will be your turn soon enough, Switzerland, there will be plenty of cheese for you. Planning on eating anything beside that?" The man didn't answer.

A soft and mild tone of classical music filled the room, slow and calm but yet with enough speed and tact to not become boring and soporific. Sometimes it would change into something harder and more upbeat and at these times, Finland would nod his head in tact with the drums, humming the melody lightly as if he knew it.

Sipping his glass of white wine, Finland looked over the assembly. A lot of people had showed up, though not all of the invited. Russia was chatting with his sisters - though he seemed really longing after getting away from the younger of them - and Spain who surprisingly had asked the giant nation something he seemed eager enough to answer.

Denmark was the one responsible for Russia's presence. He had argued with Sweden for nearly an hour about it. Sweden would rather give up on his job at IKEA than allow Russia to be present while Denmark announced that if Russia didn't go, then he wouldn't, either. This had been the start of another discussion between them where Sweden actually raised his voice, shouting about how an old - and obviously insane - friend could be more important than family. Denmark then threw back that he and Russia had been friends and allied for over 500 years, saying that even if Russia was loco, he was a cool guy.

In the end, Sweden had accepted defeat. He knew that even if he normally hated the Dane and they were sworn enemies, he wanted the idiotic asshole to attend his wedding. So, much to his annoyance and through gritted teeth, he had given the man a simple nod. That had been all he was willing to show to signalize he accepted Russia's presence. Though not without making _absolutely_ sure that Denmark understood that if Russia as much as _looked_wrongly at Tino or lifted an eyebrow near him, the man would be pulverized. Instantly.

There was also Poland and Austria who sat next to each other. The Pole would often turn around in his chair and chat to Lithuania behind him, most of the time interrupting conversations by the Baltics without caring one bit. Japan sat beside South Italy who was seated next to France. The Frenchman sat by the end of the table, just before it curved sharply. Then came Germany and Sweden to his right. The two men looked extremely alike and if it hadn't been for the glasses and the different hairstyles, Finland was pretty sure people would have been confusing the two.  
To Sweden's right was, of course, Finland. In front of them sat Iceland, Sealand and Liechtenstein who had only been allowed to go if Switzerland followed. Hence why that man was sitting beside Finland. This made him able to look at and talk to his sister without having to raise his voice. Switzerland was unfortunate enough to have Denmark to his right and he looked increasingly annoyed as time passed. It wasn't that the Dane talked to him, though; Denmark was busy chatting with and entertaining Hungary who sat by the next curve of the table, meaning that she was facing France. Sometimes, they would send each other a glance before focusing elsewhere.  
Beside Hungary sat America who blabbered energetically with just about everyone in a range of twenty meters. Especially North Italy who was seated to his right, also chattering and laughing loudly. The two seemed to get along already which was a big relief for the Finn. Prussia would occasionally mingle with the two when Latvia - the person he had been seated next to - became too scared of him and his rather cruel or lewd jokes. Out of sympathy for the three Baltics, Finland had placed them together as soon as he knew who of the invited nations would attend. Estonia was sitting by the end of the long side of the table, facing Denmark, and to his right sat a Lithuanian who would always be pulled in several directions for conversations. Norway had been placed next to him and stared at his plate. He was very uncomfortable even if the person next to him was England, a person he should be able to talk with. If about nothing else, then at least the magic they seemed to share.  
And here the list ended. To England's right sat Liechtenstein, then Sealand and Iceland.

Switzerland did not seem happy about the fact that Liechtenstein talked very well with Sealand. Sweden and Finland, though, were very pleased about it.

Finland noticed that Sweden's movements got more and more nervous and imprecise when everybody had put food on their plate and he kept fumbling with his napkin, fingers taking around his glass of red wine, then let go of it again in favour of stroking Finland's hand. The smaller man smiled to him, not knowing what exactly was going on in the other's mind but having a vague idea. And just as he had taken another mouthful of the smoked salmon they had chosen as one of the dishes, the Swede suddenly tapped his empty glass - the one used for white wine - with his knife several times until people finally shut up and gave him their undivided attention.

He stood from his chair with legs that shook ever so lightly and he cleared his throat while his eyes found his precious little Tino by his side. The man looked surprised but expectant and he quickly put the cutlery down and dabbed his lips with the napkin.

Even Denmark was quiet, either not daring to give one of his usual idiotic comments or just simply thinking it wasn't appropriate. Which would be a miracle.

"Uh... yeah. As I mentioned earlier, in... the church, I had never believed this would happen. Upon first meeting you, it seemed impossible that you should come to like me as anything more than an ally, maybe a friend if I dared to dream. In the cases where that happened, where I dared to dream of a friendship with you, I felt both impossibly happy and impossibly sad. The picture of you and me talking together without you freaking over everything I did or didn't do-"

Mild laughter and chuckling was heard from the guests.

"- and making sounds that were cute even if you were scared-" more chuckling, "- was wonderful. If you and I could share just a moment in a friendly atmosphere, without fear for each other. It was the best picture my mind could present to me at the time. But then I also felt sad, deep pain stabbing my heart because I didn't dare believe in it. A moment of friendship with you was my deepest wish every year; every day I spent with you I hoped I communicated it to you. I didn't.

"But over time, you learned to accept me and you saw deeper into my heart and my mind that I had allowed anyone to do ever before. Something inside me said that this was dangerous and that I should turn around while I still had some of my sanity."

He couldn't help but let his eyes slide over to the Russian who had folded his hands and rested the elbows on the table, looking very interested.

"In the end, we ended up moving in together even if we were barely friends. We knew some things about each other, sure, but nothing near enough for it to be natural that you stayed at my house. But this was better than the dream. I got to see you every morning, every day and every evening. We could see each other whenever we wanted to, or, more like whenever _I_wanted to." Finland chuckled again, this time a little louder. His eyes were so clear. Had they always been this clear?

It was nearly too much for Sweden to keep staring into the pools of glistening diamonds and he had to drag his gaze away, let it linger a little on the nearest bouquet of fire red roses. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"And then came the day. The day I had feared my entire life. Even before moving in with you, before I really got to know you. I knew within myself the very same day I met you, that if you ever passed away or left me, it would be the worst thing for me and I wouldn't be able to stand it. And when that day really came, when my biggest fear became the most painful reality any human must have known, I thought I would cease to exist."

The Swede once more looked near expressionless but for once, his voice revealed him. Its faint shaking told that something was off and that he was trying to deal with some hard emotions. He inhaled deeply before exhaling with equal intensity, then noticed Finland's small hand move, be put over his and their fingers laced together nearly automatically, as if per instinct. The action caused a twitch of his lips but yet he couldn't bring himself to catch Finland's gaze again.

It was stupid, really. He was right here, next to him, and they were now married, officially husband and wife, then why couldn't he look? Why couldn't he face the living and very real dream of his life right now, when he was swallowed up by these negative emotions that didn't fit for such a special and happy day?

"You... you left me in a state I had never imagined myself in. I hadn't before believed I could become quieter than I was but you made me proof otherwise. Guess that deserves some kind of credit."

Insecure chuckling and sounds escaped the audience, insecure if it was supposed to be funny or not.

Fingers gripped tighter at his hand and he closed his eyes for just a second, reliving it all in the briefest moment he had dared to share it with himself. Finland in white clothes, looking like the angel Sweden had always seen him as. An angel ready to be sent back home.

But home wasn't in the sky or in the high Heaven. Home was by Sweden's side.

Then the lid of the coffin was closed and it shattered Sweden's posture to know that he would never see his pure and innocent love again, that the world would never again be blessed with his voice. When he came to face this, he had broken. Both on the inside and the outside, not able to hide it as he slid back to his seat next to Denmark on the first row in the church.

He remembered Denmark hold around him, his arms having an unnatural kindness and his face being too serious, too sad for him. Denmark wasn't a person who could bear sadness with elegance. It looked awkward and wrong on him because he always smiled and grinned.

"But then," enough with the sadness! This is a day of joy and happiness, you idiotic man! Grow some damn balls! "Then you came back. I had never expected that." The sad layer in his voice seemed to dwindle, joy fighting to get more room. "But you did. And as sad as I had felt when you passed away, just as happy was I to find you alive again. I didn't need to know why, know when or know how at that moment, I just needed you. And you let me. You accepted me and my wish for closeness instantly, only a little afraid."

Now, somehow, he found strength to look down at his beloved wife. And he was shocked, yet not entirely surprised, to see tears in his eyes. Clear and glistening crystals pulled a thin cover of deeply felt emotions over them but they only fell when Sweden brushed a thumb over the soft skin of his hand, let a smile slide over his face.

"Later that very same day you took me by surprise by asking me to marry you."

A whistling seemed to go through the others, a collective gasp coming from every single one of them, except for Russia. He simply raised an eyebrow. None of them knew that Finland had been the one to ask, let alone had they thought it possible. To them, it had always been a one-sided love so deep and strong that many believed it unhealthy.

Yet, not a single one of them seemed to have words for this little revelation. Shock might have caught their tongues but it might as well be the fact that Sweden seemed absolutely unaffected by anything that might happen around him. The way he looked at the Finn told that Tino was the only thing he could see and the only thing he wanted to see before his eyes. He shared with these people devotion so deep it was physically visible. Not only the way fingers laced tighter around Finland's hand and made knuckles turn white, and not only the way his chest seemed to rise and fall faster than normally.

The most visible way to see this devotion was to look at his eyes. The gaze seemed to intensify by a thousand and though this normally meant you had fucked something seriously up or he wanted you to crawl away in fear - usually also if you had fucked something seriously up - this wasn't the case right now. A shine got over his royal-blue eyes and they got another depth than anyone would ever have expected to see in this pair of orbs. They glistened nearly playfully but it wasn't only the lights fooling the guests' eyes. They were genuinely happy, joyous, glad.

All the emotions Sweden had only hoped to be able to show some day. Some wonderful day when he was released from the Earthly pain.

But he wasn't crying, unlike Finland who had taken his napkin and now held it to his lips to hinder sounds in escaping him. Liquid crystals flowed from his gorgeous eyes but the way he looked up at Sweden told that he had never been happier.

"And I actually thought I had died. Because how could this be happening without being the best and most wonderful dream, produced and given to me by angels like yourself, a gift especially made for me and only to be unwrapped when my time had come? I asked you to repeat and you said the exact same thing. I touched you, dared to kiss you to see if this was real or just a dream I didn't want to end."

His other hand went to grab his wine glass and the fingers shook so much he momentarily deemed it a horrible idea to try and hold something so fragile and containing a liquid that would only disappear from clothing with a lot of effort.

He managed not to spill a single drop when he lifted the glass and once more looked over the assembly.

"I want you to toast to Tino Väinämöinen, a man younger but cleverer than me and who had much more courage than I could ever muster. A toast to the best partner a man could ever wish for!" He stretched out his arm as long as it was - which was pretty long - and a little up, careful not to make it look like something completely else to the German to his left, fingers tightly holding the glass.

It took a few seconds for people to react and for a moment, Sweden feared he had done something inappropriate and something deeply provocative without knowing it. Why weren't people doing anything? Why did they just sit there like silent fish, not moving as much as an inch? What? What had he done?

But then the reaction came. And man, did it do so powerfully.

People started applauding with such an intensity Sweden was confused. He hadn't asked them to applaud, just to toast to Tino. Why were they clapping and applauding...?

He stared in absolute confusion at them until the applaud died out after what seemed like a very, very long time - he began feeling stupid and embarrassed by standing up - and then the toast came. Some mumbled the first part in their own language - he could hear 'Prost!' and 'Cheers!' and something Russian or Polish - but after that, everyone agreed on what he had actually asked:

"To Tino Väinämöinen!" and one could easily hear Denmark shout "A man with real balls!" and the following smack that meant Norway had somehow made Hungary slap the Dane.

When everybody had taken a sip of their drinks, Sweden quickly sat back down, knowing full well that he was once more blushing visibly. Finland gave a loud sob and threw his arms around the Swede's neck when having put down napkin and glass of wine. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly and tears seeped from them, wetting Sweden's clothes where they fell. The Swede couldn't care less, though. He had only thoughts for his wonderful wife and hugged him tightly. He pressed his mouth into the softest hair he had ever felt, closed his own eyes pleasantly until he heard a significant and loud clattering of cutlery against glass that steadily rose. He looked up.

The other nations were enthusiastically tapping their glasses with their knives and he was not surprised to see that Spain, France, Latvia, America, Hungary and Denmark did it the loudest. He wondered how the glasses hadn't shattered yet under the incredible strength they forced upon the fragile material.

While Sweden knew what this meant, Finland looked clueless when he emerged from Sweden's clothes and looked out at the others.

"What are they doing?" he mumbled and felt nearly frightened by the sudden and loud noise.

"Means we have to kiss," the Swede answered. He felt spontaneous and didn't give Finland time to react to this before he tipped the other's beautiful head and leaned forward to capture his lips. But in the time this had taken, the Finn had managed to utter an "Oh" of surprise and now he did it again.

"Oh," he breathed out lowly against Sweden, his eyes falling shut as he felt the soft velvet move against his own lips, massaging them ever so gently, a hand lingering just under his chin, the touch so faint it might as well be that of a ghost's. But only the hand was faint and vague. The kiss grew in intensity surprisingly fast, taking into consideration that they were around other people, and they only broke away, leaving each other more or less breathless, when Denmark exclaimed "No need to eat your bride, there's plenty of food left!"

"Explain to me again why we let him join," Sweden managed to wheeze when he gave a last peck to Finland's lips, sending the Dane an annoyed look.

"Family," the Finn simply said, unable to say much more than that.

"Right."

Time passed - Sweden didn't know how fast - and people continued to eat. Some of them seemed to have fun, especially Spain and Poland, for some completely odd reason. Maybe it was due to the fact that those two had managed to down no less than one and a half bottle of red wine. The first layer of restraints - and Poland's anxiety towards strangers - appeared to be gone and they laughed loudly and chinked glasses together every so often.

Sealand and Liechtenstein were laughing heartily and even Iceland looked like he was having some kind of fun. The blond boy occasionally jabbed an elbow in Iceland's side to make him smile and though the young girl didn't seem to appreciate this way of doing it, she had a wide smile on her bright face and chuckles spilled from her lips like Sweden had never heard anyone do it before. Except for his wife. But his wife was a special case.

A slightly worried look at Norway showed that he was apparently holding something out to England with a blank face. And the Briton seemed deeply fascinated by the empty air, stroked it and talked to it. His eyebrows were shot upwards in surprise by something and he seemed thrilled by whatever was presented to him.

Denmark was blabbering away with Hungary and America who occasionally joined in, making both of the others chuckle or outright laugh. They gave the impression of having a lot of fun. And, it could just be Sweden's imagination, but he thought that Hungary had a strange look in her eyes. She was a bit _too_interested in Denmark's annoying words and his stupid voice.

By his side, he noticed that Finland began to speak faster than normally and that he also began slipping a Finnish word or two into the conversation with Switzerland - they had moved on to talk about animals - which left the Swiss perplex.

Halfway through his second serving of slowly cooked meat, he saw more than heard the Finn tap his glass with his knife, yet not before after having swallowed the content in one big swig. This earned him a surprised look from several of the other nations. The glass had been half-full, after all, and though most people knew he could drink like no others, it was rare someone could do it with red wine.

"Uhm, hi. Thank you all for coming on this special day," he started and made Sweden slap himself mentally. How had he forgotten _that_? "I'm very happy to see that so many of you have shown up and wanted to make this day even more special for us. I must admit that I had never seen that one coming," he gently pet Sweden's shoulder, sending him a sweet and affectionate smile before once more looking out over the guests.

"And I will be as cliché as to say that I am not good with speeches and stuff like that but I will try, anyway. Or," he began to fumble with his own hands, fingers lacing with each other, creating small knots and wriggling feverishly. "It's not exactly a speech. I think. It's more like a... tale or a story. Or I guess you could call it a poem? Uhm, yeah, I think I will just start."

Finland blushed cutely though he looked extremely embarrassed and he turned his eyes to Sweden who stared up at him, completely taken aback by how beautiful a man could look in a dress and with make-up, even if it wasn't as much as he had seen many women and young girls wear. His face was entrancingly lit by the dim light of the candles and when his trembling hands reached out for Sweden's, they looked like they were hidden by golden gloves, only the pearly and oval nails making it clear that they were out in the open and as natural as they could be.

Sweden took them in his own, relishing in the feel of the soft palms against his own calloused ones. They were like feathers, their touches so gentle they sent small shivers through his body, impressed yet confused as to how hands could feel like that.

For the shortest moment, Finland cast a look outside the nearest window. Apparently finding the sight satisfying, he smiled wider, and his eyes once more found those of Sweden.

"They say love is a game for only the weak to play,  
but when you find yourself powerless and empty of energy,  
empty of life and empty of hope,  
is love then not what makes you keep on fighting?  
If love is but chemistry and emotions in a mess,  
how is it then that it can make you fierce, willing to fight,  
to win, to be victorious, to step out of battle alive?"

Here he held a small pause, seemingly gathering new courage in Sweden's untouched glass of white wine as he slung the content down his throat.

"Sign of life and sign of hope come in many shapes;  
a whisper in your dreams, the face of someone long loved,  
words from someone trusted, the beating of your heart,  
but if you seek security in life and security in hope,  
then you need nothing but take a look around;  
Continues nature, those around you, and things over the world, then continues life and then continues hope  
and now look; it still snows."

Finland grew quiet and seemed more than ready to break into a puddle of tears all over again. Yet he continued to stand and the way his eyes bored into Sweden's made the bigger man painfully aware that his eyes were leaking. Again. Had to be at least the second time today.

"Let's toast to Berwald Oxenstierna, a man more patient and more affectionate than what's good for himself," Tino then said with a shaking voice, dragging his gaze away from the Swede although it seemed incredibly hard, "and to the man that taught me what love is and can be, and also what life itself is and can be."

And once more, the room seemed silent as the grave - pardon the bizarre comparison - for a few seconds but unlike Sweden, Finland remained confident, knowing that they only needed to grasp what he had said before they finally reacted.

Once more there was applause, then 'Prost' and 'Cheers' and there was loud and sobbing '¡Salud!' and a soft 'Priekā' as well as in many other languages before they toasted in unison:

"To Berwald Oxenstierna!" Glasses clinked together before the content was sipped and then the tapping of the fragile materials started again. This time, Finland wasted no time as he now knew what it meant. He sent Sweden a lightly mischievous smile before bending down and gave him a hard kiss directly on the lips, managing to make the Swede freeze completely before his eyes automatically closed and he savoured the sensation of feathery, yet firm and confident satin lips against his own, moving in harmony with each other, their own tact, their own pace.

Just them.

When Denmark came with another comment, Sweden clutched Finland closer with one hand and showed the Dane the middle finger on his other, not giving a damn and instead continuing to taste the wine on Finland's lips, the soft giggle that sent vibrations and shivers down his spine and made his mind fog over momentarily. The hand that pressed down on his knee as Finland leaned closer for more and better contact, nose poking gently against his own, and the sensation of a tongue quickly, deviously and playfully lashing out for too short a time, swishing over his still closed lips, as if begging for entrance but when Sweden was more than willing to comply and had already parted them, Finland pulled back.

"Later, tiger," he whispered into his ear, giving Sweden's blushing cheek a last peck before sitting back down in his chair with feverish moments, adrenaline still rolling through his veins like his life depended on it.

Sweden was not amused by the loss of contact. But he was very turned on by this vague promise. If Finland wanted tiger, then tiger he would get.

* * *

The formal and strict atmosphere was slowly dissolved as people finished eating and started chatting again. After a quick announcement from Finland about cake being ready shortly, the plates were exchanged and smaller and finer plates were placed before each guest. As soon as this was done and people had gotten their glasses refilled - Finland heard Poland ask specifically for vodka and made a note to ask him his favourite brand someday - the nations started to walk up to them to chat a bit.

None could be surprised that Denmark was the first.

"Yo, bro, that was _awesome_! And what the hell, you didn't even stutter or cut vowels?! You sure have changed! Good job, little Fin-Fin!" he exclaimed when close enough to being heard - which was possible at a distance of ten meters - and he placed one arm around Sweden, the other around Finland. His cheeks glowed bright red and he reeked of alcohol.

"Thanks, Den," the Finn said warmly and ruffled his hair gently, making him laugh loudly before strolling back to his new Hungarian friend.

Watching him from a distance, Finland whispered: "Five bucks they go home together."

"We don't use bucks."

"Right. Five kisses they go home together."

"Top." Of course, both of them knew that they would get more than just five kisses, no matter if Hungary and Denmark went home together or not. It was just for the fun of it.

Then a smaller shadow ran around the table and flung itself directly into Sweden's stomach, making him look down.

"Grattis, papa! Och grattis, mama!" the small blond boy exclaimed and held tightly around his father's waist, beaming up at him and nearly making Sweden's heart fly into his throat. He lifted a giant hand and let it fall gently on top of the blond locks, ruffling it ever so lightly until the boy squirmed away, pouting and looking highly offended by the action.

"And what is it called in mama's language?" Sweden then asked the boy kindly, lips nearly forming a smile.

There was a small silence from the boy where he looked up at Finland with a slightly confused expression, bushy eyebrows furrowing as if it was hard to find the words.

"O... Onneksi olkoon!" he then said and his face cracked in a wide smile and he looked extremely proud of himself. Especially when Liechtenstein giggled a bit but was polite enough to hold her hand in front of her mouth. She was watching him and his 'parents' with warmth in her eyes. Switzerland looked away, tch-ing loudly.

Both Sweden and Finland pulled Sealand in for a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead before they let him run off with the girl again. It didn't pass by either of them that the Swiss sent a long and hard look after them.

"Don't worry, Switzerland, Peter will take good care of her. You have nothing to fear," Finland promised with a warm voice. The man remained silent and instead grabbed another piece of cheese from his plate that he had demanded to keep.

It should here be noted that even if both Finland and Sweden greeted people with more enthusiasm than normally - and the fact that Sweden actually talked to them - neither of them were as much as tipsy because of the alcohol. They were simply drunk on euphoria.

The next person to walk up to them was Latvia, much to their surprise. He was followed by Estonia and Lithuania. Equally surprising was it to see that Poland wasn't with Lithuania, but still chatted with Spain, and now also France.

"Mr. Sweden," the Latvian started but yelped in fear when Sweden looked at him, the hard stare still in place.

"Don't be scared, Mr. Latvia," Finland said kindly and smiled to the obviously nervous boy.

"R-Right. Mr. Sweden, y-your speech was really beautiful and I was s-surprised to hear such deep words from you. Not that I think you're too cold and unable to say such things, of course, ahahahaha... hahah... ahh..." His words faded and he looked so intimidated that Finland couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You can say it, Mr. Latvia. He looks like a rock but he is much softer and kinder."

"Uhm... I-I just wanted to say that, as someone who reads many romance novels, I-I think you could make some good ones, too," Latvia then said so fast the words were nearly lost to both Finland and Sweden but it was lucky they got to hear them because the man ran away the very next second, apparently too scared by Sweden to stick around a moment longer.

The Swede looked after him, confused to a degree where he looked like one big question mark. That didn't fit with his own impression of him. He couldn't write novels, and especially not romance. He didn't have those abilities, he just said what he felt.

"And yours wasn't bad, either, Finny," Estonia continued, smiling widely. His cheeks had a red glow that proved he had had a good amount of alcohol. "Would never imagine you to come up with such things. Got inspiration from someone?"

Finland shook his head.

"Nope. All by myself," he said proudly and leaned back in his chair, looking up at his friend and Lithuania. "You doing good?"

Both nodded.

"Quite fine, yes, thanks. But excuse us, we have to find Latvia again."

"Sure thing. Take care, all of you." Estonia sent him thumbs up while Lithuania flashed a bright smile whereupon both nations disappeared to find their 'brother'.

The rest of the nations then came over one by one and congratulated the two newly-weds. That is, until Denmark, Norway and Prussia all of sudden jumped the small Finn, lifted him up and carried him out of the room before Sweden even got to follow. And if he had, a giant and freezing hand would have stopped him.

"Ah-ah, Sweden," a purring voice said into his ear, not calming the Swede in the slightest. The hell?! What were they doing, why were they carrying his wife away like that, what were they up to?!

His face must have shown utmost horror, fear and fury when he turned around, ready to smack Russia square in the face for holding him back but the other had foreseen this movement and instead just grabbed both arms and forced them into the famous lock where you couldn't do anything out of fear for breaking the bones.

"Stupid Sweden. You should know this, it's very common in Finland," Russia chuckled and seemed to enjoy the Swede's anger and panic immensely. "The best man and his trusted men steal away the bride and then the groom has to do something in order to get her... or him back," the man continued, fingers tightening their grip on Sweden's arms when he tried to break the grip.

This didn't calm him a bit. Why the hell should he trust Denmark and Prussia with his beautiful Tino? More so, why the hell did Norway of all people agree to do it?! He would have to talk to him later about stealing other people's brides!

Just as Sweden had decided he would do something to get free of Russia's grip, Poland bounded over to him, sent the giant man a single look full of contempt before poking at Sweden's chest, seemingly completely unaffected by the man's gaze that would sent a lion fleeing.

"Eeh, so, you see, your mission is to sing a song full of loooove to your wife and you will, like, get him back, 'kay?" he said, voice sounding more than just a little slurred. He was slouching against Spain who was sent into a fit of giggles while he also clung to the Pole. It seemed their struggle centuries ago was happily forgotten in the haze of alcohol.

"Vad i helvete?" the Swede growled and was impressed, though not completely happy, by realizing that Russia had the same amount of strength as he, if not more. "How the hell is he supposed to hear when he is out there," oh God, where _was_he? "and I'm in here?"

A microphone was forced into his face by the Pole and he looked incredibly smug.

"He wears one of those small thingies in his ear. Prussia and Denmark are probably putting it on him right now. They will, like, shout some kind of code word when it's-"

"Fire in the hole!"

Poland grinned widely and bent a bit forward, grinning at the Swede. Sweden just hoped the words meant that Finland had filled either Denmark's or Prussia's - preferably both - ass with salmiakki.

"Now it's your time to perform, Ber. Show little Tino what ABBA has taught you, why don't you?"

He was very aware of how he blushed at that, as stupid as it was. That was partly an insult to his band, did that little shit even know that?!

"And Tino will come back when I'm done?"

"Yup!"

"Unharmed?"

"Uh, duh! Of course!" Poland said and rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe the amount of trust Sweden didn't put in them. One who knew Denmark and Prussia like Sweden did, though, wouldn't be surprised.

The Sweden narrowed his eyes before he made a short nod and he was let go, pulling his arms back in front of him to rub the sore joints. He made a mental note to never go near Russia again, let alone let him come near Finland. His hand then found the microphone and he forced it out of the Pole's grip.

It wasn't that he was angry. Not that much. Only by the fact that Finland was together with Denmark and Prussia and because he knew that those two could do practically anything they desired.

Then he remembered that Finland, despite his sweet and innocent appearance, also was able to kick ass like few else and he calmed down just a bit. Tino would be okay, he wouldn't be afraid to kick both men in the balls if they did something inappropriate. Would he? Or at least Norway would stop them before they went that far...

"Hit it!" Some of the other nations grinned - including America and Hungary - while some looked completely plain like they saw this all the time. In this group was Germany and Japan. Sealand was cheering loudly.

_Well, this is going to be embarrassing_, Sweden thought as he entered an improvised stage. What should he even sing? He had never sung in his life before... except maybe in his younger days. And when the radio would blast ABBA late into the night.

And yet, one song came to mind. A song that wasn't by ABBA, nor was it made by some other world famous performer from his country. But it was a song that showed what Sweden was and what Sweden would continue to be. A song proving the strength he possessed and the beast he could be. Many might not call it an appropriate song but he was able to twist the words into something he could use for later.

And if Finland played dirty, then so would Sweden.

When the first words ripped from his throat, it was easy to see he had the entire assembly by surprise. Everybody had expected something ABBA, something soft and romantic and they were totally taken aback by the tough words and the speed of the song. Sweden's voice was deep and growling and he lowered it just a tad so it had a slightly seducing touch he didn't know his voice was able to give.

In the chorus, though, he raised his voice so loud it was impressive the windows didn't clatter, and, much to the other nations' surprise, his voice didn't break and it didn't go supersonic. It was the same deep roar he had been giving in the church just hours ago and he knew that even if he was probably going to regret it tomorrow, he might as well have his fun with it in the moment. And so he did. He went from not wanting to sing at all to actually nearly making a show out of it.

Even Sweden could be some kind of party-beast. He wasn't exactly dancing or anything like that but he sure as hell knew how to use his voice to make up for the lack of movements.

As the last words died out in a loud roar and the song was over, Sweden had went into a crouch, legs tense and more than ready to jump forward, slit the throat of the nearest prey daring to run. But as the nations didn't run or didn't boo he felt the muscles turn into jelly and he sat down on the improvised stage, microphone still in hand which was quite sweaty. Then the applause began and though they seemed afraid of him once more, they also looked genuinely surprised. In a good way. None of them had believed Sweden to be able to perform a song like that, and especially not without his voice breaking.

And as promised, Finland was returned just few minutes later, when adrenaline was still rushing through his veins and he still fought with his legs, trying to force them to become muscles again and not a leg-shaped blob.

He looked up when he noticed a shadow in front of him and couldn't help a slightly crooked grin.

Finland wasn't exactly blushing but there was colour in his cheeks that didn't come from the rouge alone. He blinked a few times, then walked close enough to spread Sweden's legs apart far enough to slip in between them and put his arms around the taller man's waist.

"My, my," the smaller man mumbled into his body and Sweden could practically feel the grin against him, "aren't you quite the singer. I wish I could have seen it."

The alcohol he had had during the evening had reduced his restraints heavily and he began to feel slightly mischievous and alluring. So when he answered with "You get a private show tonight, my little angel," it was done with a small but wicked smile on his face and a hand on Finland's chin. He relished in the fact that Finland made a soft sound and that he could feel the man shiver beneath his touch.

Then it seemed he got his senses back and he quickly let go of the Finn, mumbling an apology and watched as the others began finding back together in their groups to chat. He was not surprised to see Switzerland stand by the platter of cheese that had been left out. Liechtenstein occasionally walked over to him to see if he was okay and such, always with Sealand right behind her. The two seemed to get along very well and it pleased Sweden to see.

Finland just chuckled at the apology and placed a quick kiss on his cheeks. Sweden noticed a stronger reek of alcohol than before he had left and frowned.

"Denmark and Prussia gave you alcohol?"

"Mmmh," the smaller hummed and pulled away a bit.

"What kind?" Finland shrugged carelessly.

"Something from a bottle with a bison pictured on it. Think it was Polish but I'm not sure."

This didn't exactly calm Sweden down but he didn't get to say anymore before Finland opened his mouth to continue.

"And I'm sorry about this, by the way. I bet you didn't know this is very normal in Finnish weddings?" Sweden shook his head.

"But it's okay. Just happy you're fine," he answered and took the Finn's hand, squeezed it gently. He received a warm smile and a squeeze himself before the doors to the kitchen were opened and a smaller table was rolled out. On the surface were placed two cakes, each of them in three layers. People began applauding again - some even whistled to the chefs and waitresses - before the humans demanded silence and presented the cakes.

One of them was a traditional Swedish cake with few and simplistic decorations and was sort of a sponge cake with whipped cream along the edge and a few flowers made of frosting. It wasn't three layered like normally or at least as America would have made them. It was more like one cake on one plate, then another cake on another plate on top of the first and so on. This seemed to confuse America greatly.

The other cake was a traditional Finnish one. Another sponge cake, made the same way as Sweden's, just with a filling of chocolate and decorated with a tons of berries, especially straw- and raspberries, creating a beautiful, wide spiral from the middle of each cake and to the edge.

The biggest of the humans - a giant man, both in height and weight - gestured Finland and Sweden over to the cakes and gave them a knife to cut the cake. Looking at each other and both smiling, they took hold of the knife. Finland put his hand over Sweden's and he had a plan with this.

If Sweden could pull pranks and games without him knowing it, then so could Finland.

So the moment the blade broke through the first layer on the Swedish cake, Finland prepared his right foot without having Sweden notice. And when the knife clinked against the plate, the Finn instantly banged his foot into the floor, starting poor Sweden who would probably have let go of the knife if it had been possible.

"The hell?" he asked with a shocked expression. Finland looked around them, his face completely innocent. He hadn't only caught the Swede by surprise.

"What? You didn't know that? In Finland, it's tradition to stomp with the foot when the knife clinks with the plate. The fastest is boss in the house which means," he turned around again, dress whirling and his hip swaying just a bit, "that I'm boss."

Sweden seemed surprised by this. He hadn't seen that one coming at all.

"No way. I said 'Ja' the loudest. Means I'm boss."

"Ha. As if. I can boss you around any time," Finland insisted and crossed his arms over his chest after having let go of Sweden's hand. He was far, far from annoyed, though. He had a cunning smile on his face and the left eyebrow was raised in an 'Oh, is that so?'-way. Sweden stood with the knife in his hand and looked absolutely confused.

"I beg to differ."

"And I beg for some cake!" America interrupted and rubbed his stomach, eyes locked at the cake. You could practically see drool running from his lips. Sweden and Finland decided to drop the case there, instead sending each other looks that clearly said 'We'll settle that later' and they began to cut cake for the other nations. It showed that Finland was surprisingly good at making the pieces equally big and he therefore quickly got the job as cake-cutter.

When everybody had a piece of cake, they sat down again. During the meal, seats had been picked out especially for everyone, trying to make the nations friendlier towards each other. For some it had worked. Like with Poland and Spain, and England and Norway, not to mention Denmark and Hungary. Now, they were all free to sit where they pleased.

This resulted in all the normal groups. Germany, Austria, Switzerland, the Italians and Japan got together - Liechtenstein and Switzerland had had a longer discussion about where she should sit, which resulted in the girl rebelling against her brother and she chose to sit with Sealand again, much to the boy's delight and Sweden and Finland's amusement.

Poland, France, Spain and Prussia sat together and America joined them few minutes later. Russia and his sisters were sitting together like before - Finland had found it unwise to split them up - and so did the Baltics. Hungary had joined Ukraine, chattering heartily with her and the brother, even the other sister although it was clear she was very careful around them.

England had seated himself next to Norway who, of course, sat with the rest of his Nordic friends. And as before, Sealand and Liechtenstein sat in front of them, chatting with whoever walked past them.

The atmosphere was much more relaxed now and a buzzing sound of conversations everywhere quickly rose. To the cake was served a most delicious and sweet wine - France could instantly give year, country and name from a single sip - that Sweden apparently didn't want to even get close to.

"Bad experiences in my youth," he simply said when Finland asked and no matter how hard the small Finn pressured and begged him, Sweden gave no explanation. Not even when Finland threatened with letting him sleep alone that night. Sweden knew he didn't mean it so he just shrugged and stabbed his piece of cake with the small fork, for a second wondering if he should follow yet another one of his old traditions where the groom would feed the bride and the bride would feed the groom. He quickly dropped this idea, though. He had been romantic enough today to last for the rest of his life.

He had just taken another fork-full when Denmark tapped his glass, making the Swede look up and frown. Great. Speech from a drunken relative. Well, wasn't this going to be hilarious and worth remembering.

It was, though, not as bad as he thought.

When Denmark stood from his chair, it was only with a little help from his arch-enemy and he thanked lowly.

"Well!" he then started, flashing his trademark grin and slapped Sweden on the shoulder like they were best buddies. "You've gotten old, bro, and you've finally gotten yourself someone to spend your life with. That's awesome!" Prussia toasted to that.

"And hey, I'm not going to be some kind of sentimental dude who can't keep with up his emotions, so I'm just gonna say this; Swe, I know we have been through a shit-ton of bad things together and that may have torn us apart," a quick flashback from the Kalmar Union flashed before Sweden's eyes but he didn't let it show when he continued to look politely at Denmark, wondering where he was going with this, "and that we haven't been exactly best friends-"

"That'd be a shame to claim," Sweden agreed, feelings his lips twitch in some kind of a smile, much to his own surprise. Denmark laughed and slapped his shoulder again.

"Just my words. Aaanyhow, as I was saying, even if we have been through bad shit and such we have also been through good times together and this has also formed us so even if we are arch-enemies and such, I hope you and Finny get many happy years together! As much as I hate you, you damn well deserve it!" And with that, he held out his glass, requesting the other nations to follow. They did and Denmark sat back down, emptying his own and Japan's glass. Of course without permission from the Asian nation but he didn't seem to mind. He was busy talking with Germany and Italy who both seemed to need something to do.

So Denmark once more jumped up - this time actually stepping up on his chair - and demanded the others' attention once more. Sweden buried his head in his hands and sent a silent prayer to Odin to let whatever the Dane had planned end well.

"Now! We had Finny's little fun game of 'steal the bride'! But hey guys, it's far from over yet! Did you know that this massive guy," a hand ruffled Sweden's hair and was in a moment in danger of being stabbed with a knife, "has this fun game of feeling and kissing your way to either bride or groom?"

Sweden could feel his face pale and even behind his fingers - which were still held over his face - he could feel Finland's intense and curious gaze. No. Just no.

"I knew it," the Swede heard a familiar voice say and he couldn't help but send an incredulous look over at the Norwegian. How could he do this, why was he helping Denmark in torturing him like this?

"Aalright, man! Nor, explain!" Denmark was way too excited about this. Sweden turned his head a little bit more to see Finland's reaction. The man indeed looked curious and he was tilting his head ever so lightly, apparently very attentive. His cheeks were glowing bright red now, and Sweden could smell and feel that it wasn't only rouge and what day it was. That being said, Finland was far from drunk. He was just beginning to become tipsy.

"Basically, it's a game where the bride is blindfolded and has to feel the legs of three men and her husband, then determine who the groom is. Then the groom is being blindfolded and has to figure out who his wife is. This happens by being kissed on the lips by said wife and three other women. Occasionally, some of the women change with men."

Scattered chuckling could be heard from the table as people slowly took in what this meant.

"I refuse," Sweden then grumbled. Like hell he would let Finland grope other men - 'but also yourself,' a small voice cooed into his ear - and like hell he would let women kiss him.

"Fine. Then you will be kissed by men from the beginning," Denmark said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"That's not what I meant, you idiot!" But it was too late to save it. People were laughing by now and he already knew he had lost when he felt a hand on his upper arm, snaking further up and to the side, finding his neck and stroking it insinuatingly.

The hell? Finland was actually up to this? What was wrong with him? Then Sweden had to remind himself that Finland was indeed pretty... interesting when it came to his interests and what he found entertaining.

"There's a little time before the dance," he whispered into Sweden's ear, voice edged by amusement and alcohol and something else that could only be labelled as lust. It was only a tiny, tiny portion of his voice that held this emotion and tone but it was enough to get Sweden's breath to hitch in his throat before he gave in with a nod.

His mental list of people he would have to scold was growing very long.

* * *

Few minutes later, Sweden found himself blindfolded and sitting on a chair by the improvised stage. His heart was beating fiercely in his chest and it wouldn't really be an understatement to say that he was scared.

He wasn't scared of not being able to recognize his dear wife, of course not. Even if they had only shared few kisses he knew exactly how those lips felt and he knew the energy that would spark the very instant he felt them on his own. What he was scared about was the fact that other people would be kissing him.

On the lips.

Where only Finland's lips should be. Why did Finland even agree to this? Sweden knew Finland loved him very dearly - yet another understatement - and shouldn't the sight of other men or women kissing Sweden then be unbearable for Finland? Or was that simply how parties went? He had never been to one himself - except, of course, for the royal weddings but that couldn't be compared to this at all - so he didn't really know how it was supposed to be.

"Ready, Swe?" Denmark asked.

"No."

"Awesome! First person, go!"

Already when Sweden could feel another person get close to him, closer to his face, did he feel himself push back in the chair just a little, trying to get away from the stranger.

Denmark tried to calm him with a "Don't worry, this one doesn't bite unless you want him to!" which didn't help at all.

Then there was a pair of lips on his own and Sweden instantly decided that the sensation was gross. Yet it continued and - probably he hadn't had enough alcohol to find this tear-wrenching hilarious? - he began to feel those strange lips he wasn't even close to familiar with.

They tasted of wine. A lot of wine. Shame that couldn't really reveal who it was as just about everyone had drunk wine this evening. Sweden could remember some who hadn't, though. That included Japan, Switzerland, Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. Also Iceland if his mind didn't trick him. The lips didn't taste of beer, either, and not even wine could drown out the taste of beer. This would then exclude Prussia and Germany. Whoever it was was confident in himself and this pretty much excluded all of the Baltics.

That excluded pretty many people, narrowing it down so only relatively few people were left. Besides that, the lips were incredibly soft and warm but they were still too soft to be Finland. Even if Finland was small and innocent and not the rough type, his kisses had been deeper than this and more demanding. Finland knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it.

A scent of roses reached his nostrils and he instantly pushed the man away and wiped his lips fiercely.

"France," he just said and he could hear from the others' reactions that he was right.

"More alcohol?" Denmark offered.

"Yes, please." He was given a small glass of something ice cold and, well knowing Denmark and his tricks, he sniffed the liquid before taking a tiny swig. It didn't taste of poison or vinegar. He therefore downed the liquid and seconds later regretted it when a fire seemed to eat his throat and singe his air passages. Vodka. Pure, clean vodka with nothing else but vodka. It wasn't a big glass but it was enough to leave Sweden with one thought:

Never again.

"R-right," he coughed when he reached a point where he couldn't feel the burn in his throat - or just the throat in general - and was somewhat ready to go on.

The next pair of lips was sloppier and the kiss was very wet. And reeked of vodka and too strong alcohol. And the man smelled of horses. He was pushed away after less than three seconds with the word "Poland". The man whined lowly before being cooed to silence by Spain's voice.

This meant that either this person or the next would be his wife. That made it slightly more bearable, not to mention exciting. He would soon be kissing his dear wife again, though without being able to see. This added an extra touch to it all and his skin began prickling in a strange way. Was he seriously beginning to enjoy it? It was sick!

But then there was new lips on his and he instantly felt familiarity in those, soft but slightly demanding, warm enough to burn the skin away where they would linger. The hair in the back of his head stood up nearly immediately.

Taking the chance, he pretended not to recognize the mouth over his but he still gave himself away when he deepened it without a thought, tilting his head just a bit to beg Finland to play along. But Tino didn't do so and it was with a soft chuckle that he pulled away and brushed a finger over Sweden's face and the back of his head, loosening the knot so the cloth fell into his lap.

"Pretty good," he complimented and beamed at the Swede who felt his chest swell with pride - and love and lust - before he got up from the rather uncomfortable chair, looking over at the clock. Traditions prescribed that the Wedding Waltz had to happen before midnight or else it would bring misfortune to the newly-weds. The clock was only a quarter past eleven. Plenty of time to let Finland play his part of this game. Unfortunately.

"You guessed them surprisingly fast." Was that even a compliment?

"Used the elimination method," he simply stated and hugged Tino closer. If it was to communicate his feelings once more, if it was to seek sudden comfort and safety he didn't know he needed, or if it was simply for the sake of holding him, Sweden wasn't quite sure. He just knew that he wanted to be in his wife's arms right now. As if this experience had scared the living hell out of him.

* * *

Seeing Finland blindfolded and on his knees was an interesting and alluring sight.

If it hadn't been for the others around them. And if it hadn't been for Finland currently feeling Germany's legs. It didn't pass Sweden's attention that the German looked very embarrassed and a blush was creeping over his cheeks while he looked away. Rumours had it that he was awkward even around women so one could only imagine how awkward it must be to have a man in a dress and with make-up touching his legs.

Prussia was rolling around on the floor, holding his stomach tightly while tears of laughter rolled from his eyes. It was incredible this sight itself hadn't made Denmark utter a single sound. He was standing right next to Sweden and the Swede had a hard time trying to find words that matched the burning anger in his chest. Finland would be feeling Denmark's legs. Finland. Denmark's legs. It was unbearable and Sweden had the biggest urge to kick the man's legs so hard they would break and he therefore couldn't be in the game.

When Finland still hadn't guessed the person whose legs he was touching he moved up a bit, reaching the knees. Then, apparently, something seemed to dawn upon him.

"Germany, am I right?" he asked with a small smile.

"Ja," the German instantly said and stepped back, his face having the same colour as the roses on the table.  
"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Finland continued and went on to the next person. Sweden's heart was beginning to race. He hoped Finland was as good at guessing as he was so this embarrassing game would be over faster.

The man seemed to encounter a problem, though, by the man next to Germany. He frowned greatly and carefully felt around the ankle and the calf of one leg, then the other. Russia didn't utter a sound, simply looked down at the man with interest and amusement in his eyes.

Let it here be noted that they had been forced to restrain Belarus with several ropes and some table cloths so she wouldn't ruin everything. They had also managed to silence her effectively so her voice and shouts wouldn't give anything away.

Sweden did not like that look. It was far too intense and far too joyous. Russia was having too much fun by having Finland feel his legs like that. The small hands reached the back of the knees and carefully examined them as well as possible. Sweden mentally cursed himself and Russia for being equally high and incredibly close to of equal body-type, too. The others had probably planned this. That they would put Russia in there just to mess with poor little Finland's head.

Tino had never really felt or groped Sweden's legs - but the thought sure was appealing - so he would have about no idea how they would feel contra someone else's. Especially not a guy's like Russia.

After what seemed like a long minute where the hands managed to reach the thighs, Finland gave up, much to Sweden's relief. He had become incredibly tense while watching Finland get closer and closer to a certain point of the Russian's body. Now, the small man sat back down on his heels and seemed deep in thought.

"I'm sorry, I can't figure you out. I guess I will be going on to the next person, then...?"

"Correct," Norway said flatly, his face only showing a bit of amusement. He got eye contact with Sweden for a moment and upon looking into the bigger man's eyes that clearly said 'You are going to pay for this', the man simply shrugged and mimed 'You will get the same treatment tenfold later, so stop whining'.

And the Swede stared with intense jealousy when Finland began to touch Denmark's legs. He once more begged that Finland would easily recognize these legs as they were pretty similar to Sweden's, yet without the same size of muscles, thereby smaller calves.

He was right. It didn't take more than about twenty seconds before Finland playfully pushed the man away.

"Denmark. You really lack muscles in the legs, you know," the Finn commented with a wide smile and a chuckle.

Sweden's heart instantly sped up when he watched Finland get up, walk the few steps to the side and then sat down before him. Small hands found his legs and began to touch them slowly, carefully. He knew he was blushing lightly even before the touching had really started. The fingers danced over his shin under the trousers, moved to his calf before studying the ankle. They traced small lines along a big and quickly pulsating vein on the side of his shin, fingertips digging slightly into the skin to feel the size of muscles. Sweden had to control himself to not make a strangled sound. After all, this was quite entertaining when you got into it.

The frown on Tino's face deepened and he looked even more confused now. His head moved a little to the side, looking a bit to the left for Russia's legs, then back. After a few more seconds of touches that only got more intense he asked "Can I get person number two over here? I can feel them both at the same time, right?"

Either Finland had no idea how that could sound, or either he didn't care one bit. Denmark was thrown into a fit of laughter together with Prussia when they looked at Sweden who looked very annoyed, very angry and very turned on at the same time. Combined, it was a hilarious expression and they were laughing so much that not even his infamous glare of 'I hope you die a slow and painful death' could stop them.

Finland had no idea what was going on and he clearly didn't care. Russia moved a bit closer. Sweden begged that Finland tried to listen to the weight of the steps, using this to determine the person.

Then there was one hand on Sweden's leg and one hand on Russia's. The Russian sent Sweden an amused look and a wicked smile which Sweden did not return. Not even the twitch of a lip.

Surprisingly, the hands managed to keep the same pace and move to the exact same places, working in perfect harmony. The frown came back when he reached the back of both men's knees. Sweden tensed greatly by accident when the fingers moved to the thighs and it was probably this pretty much involuntarily movement that made the game end.

Finland gave Russia's knee a pat and announced "Russia" but waited for the confirmation before he removed the blindfold. Then he stared up at the Swede with the biggest and clearest eyes he had ever made. He winked and put his other hand on Sweden's hip for support when he got up.

Sweden was pretty sure the left hand stroked his manhood on purpose. Very pretty damn sure. Especially because of the face Finland made when getting to his feet.

"Not quite as good, eh, Fin-Fin?" Denmark managed to breathe out as he finished laughing and got his lungs and breathing under control.

"Had I been groping Swe's legs before today, it would have been the easiest thing in the world," he answered back.

He bickered with Denmark for a few minutes before the Dane rolled his eyes and shouted to the others to get the table away so they could get place for the famous dance. Using the time wisely, Sweden pulled Finland a bit to the side, fingers perhaps a bit too tight around the wrist.

"Do you have any idea how teasing you are?" he growled, a sound coming from somewhere deep in his throat. The Finn chuckled and put up an innocent face. But his words were quite different.

"You bet I do. And don't you dare tell me it doesn't turn you on. Be glad the others can't see it clearly in this light," he whispered back, leaning into Sweden's body and chest, staring up at him with wide and glistening eyes.

"... No more alcohol for you."

Finland whined.

"You can't be serious! I've barely had anything to drink at all!"

"An unknown amount of possibly Polish vodka along with an unknown amount of red and white wine? They probably also gave you a beer with something in it." 'They' was of course a reference to Prussia and Denmark. "Did Norway even do anything?"

"Nope. He just stood there and watched and listened. He was pretty surprised to hear you sing like that."

Sweden rolled his eyes.

"I do have musicians beside ABBA, you kn-"

"Hey, love birds! The floor is ready!" And indeed it was. The table was moved against the wall in the other end of the room and the floor was surprisingly big and empty. The Swede swallowed heavily and felt sweat appear on his forehead again. Dancing. Not really his speciality. He was too big and too clumsy for dancing, he would just end up crushing poor little Finland's toes.

But there wasn't time to think about it.

Finland was already dragging him to the centre of the floor while the music lowered and slowed down into a calm and slow melody that couldn't be misunderstood. Then it stopped for the shortest moment before beginning again. A quick gaze towards the sound showed that a piano was standing not too far from the kitchen door - how had he not seen that? - and that Austria was sitting by it, playing a beautiful melody while Norway stood beside him, accompanying by playing the violin. Tino, who had also sent a look at them, looked very touched. Besides the two men playing, there was complete silence in the room. Everybody was staring at Sweden and Finland as they slowly began to dance. Sweden's right hand was holding tightly around Finland's waist while his left held Tino's right hand and the other's left hand was on Sweden's shoulder.

In the silence, only broken by beautiful tones and notes coming from the two musicians, Sweden focused on getting his steps right and it was much to his surprise that he didn't make a single mistake. And neither did Finland. The melody was hypnotizing and wonderfully slow, giving both nations time and space to relax a little. It was always so stressing to be together with Denmark.

But now, as notes and tones mixed and mingled beautifully, they gave the most wondrous music they could ever want. The best part was probably that it wasn't either remarkably Swedish or Finnish. It was music that could be played in any country in the world, giving a sensation of total relaxation.

It didn't take long before Finland rested his head on Sweden's chest, sighing happily and his eyes closed. But the skin under them was wet, just a tiny bit, Sweden saw when they turned around slowly, following the tact the violin and piano dictated. He was silently weeping, tears falling without a sound slipping past his lips' defences, and they stained Sweden's white shirt under the tuxedo.

Silently, ever so softly and making sure only Finland could hear it, he began singing a Swedish song. He didn't know from where he knew it, he just knew that he had liked it since the first time he had heard it. It didn't matter that it hadn't been made for the melody filling the room, because this was one of those very few songs that could fit any piece of music.

Lips parted ever so lightly to let feathery words rain over Finland's little head, making him shake a tiny bit as they whirled around, his dress lifting a bit and he clenched Sweden's hands tighter. The bigger of them kept on, reaching the chorus and reciting it a few times while he made sure his thumbs caressed the Finn's lower back soothingly, gently. No pressure added, just letting the other know he was here and that he would stay right here as long as Finland might wish.

Sweden closed his eyes for a moment, feeling wonderfully at peace and completely calm. If he could just stay with Finland like this forever... then he would give up his job at IKEA and he wouldn't care about his boss and his sour faces. Politics couldn't bother him less. Let him stay here, with Finland in his arms, both of them slowly and sensually waltzing around and it seemed like the perfect solution to world peace. If everyone would just take a moment to dance like this with their loved one, if they would just take it easy for a moment and enjoy the calm music of two hearts beating in perfect harmony, then wouldn't that solve all of the world's problems?

The Swede could nearly feel Finland's heart race. Then his voice broke and he realized how shaking it had been for the past few minutes. It cracked with an ungainly sound that had Sweden grimace but Finland didn't seem affected by it. He seemed completely at peace and despite having his eyes closed, he never missed a step and he always followed Sweden's lead, never stepped wrong. It was easy to see that he was still crying, even if it had yet to be voiced.

Slowly, people began moving closer, making their space smaller and smaller until they could barely move. Then the applause began again and it rose to such heights that the roof seemed to explode.

Lifting his head and presenting his wet and glistening face, cheeks red with stains of tears, rouge and alcohol and his eyes taking the shape of a thousand diamonds, deeper than the deepest well and clearer than the clearest crystal, Finland didn't hesitate in kissing Sweden. And Sweden didn't hesitate in kissing back.

It was soft. So very, very soft. Feathery, cottony. Like the fur of a chinchilla; so soft you do not realize you are touching. And yet, it was so clear to Sweden. Not because of the other nations' applause - it barely existed in his world that was only Tino - and not because of the soft pats he could vaguely feel land on his back. But because of the fire in his veins, the liquid that seemed to set his heart aflame, make it flutter like the wings of a thousand butterflies. The adrenaline that wasn't roaring and demanding but instead giving him courage and confidence in what he did. Tears crept into his eyes, under his glasses and over his cheeks, making the lenses fog over. But it didn't matter. He could be both blind and deaf and it wouldn't matter.

The only thing that meant something was the feeling of Finland's hand in his own, the shaking fingers on his shoulder, slow and quivering lips against his and the fine sighs of content against his skin. He could demand nothing more in this moment. He was perfectly happy in this moment, and he couldn't recall ever having dared to dream of euphoria this intoxicating, this captivating.

"I love you, Tino."

The kiss ended there. Finland had been unable to keep his shivering under control and trembled too much for a kiss to be possible.

* * *

The dance had ended all too soon. It hadn't had the traditional ending - the groom getting cut off the tips of his socks and tie - because none had been able to force Sweden away from Finland like that. It had been a magical sight, seeing the big and usually impossibly intimidating Sweden be equally soft and vulnerable in Finland's arms, clinging to him like he was the last hope of survival.  
Not even Denmark had been able to find it in him to break up their dance. He had instead asked Hungary who seemed more than happy to accept.

Looking up when about everyone else was dancing with someone - Austria, Norway and Switzerland being the only exceptions - Sweden had been surprised to see that the clock had passed one in the night. He didn't even feel exhausted. Quite the opposite, really. Being so calm, silent and at peace seemed to have given him new energy but he still pulled Finland to the side once more, wanting to spend just a little more time with him alone.

Sealand had - unsurprisingly - taken Liechtenstein and Sweden could have sworn he even saw the boy bow politely before reaching the girl his hand. So England still did something good when he had the boy. Sealand was also surprisingly good at dancing. Neither Sweden nor Finland had taught him to dance and despite his young age he did it very well. Both of them seemed to have a lot of fun, whirling around and laughing, stretching apart and reaching closer every now and then.

Denmark, as mentioned, was dancing with Hungary and they seemed very close. Finland sent a nervous look over at Norway. The man had his eyes closed but the jaws that were set tightly and the thin line that made a mouth all too clear signalized that he knew what was going on. Finland then looked at Austria. He also seemed to know but he focused all of his energy on the piano, concentrating solely on coaxing the most beautiful tones he knew out of the keys.

And Finland felt a little sad. Norway wanted Denmark but never showed it and though Denmark was always shouting about how Norway loved him and would go through fire and water for him, it became tiring in the end. If it wasn't shown just once in a while, you would stop believing but would keep the hope alive.  
It was the same with Austria. He had been married to Hungary, at first only out of political reasons, later out of love, but now they were friends. It must still hurt to see someone you once loved so deeply being close to another.

Lithuania and Poland were a whole other category. That was wild and untamed like Finland had never seen it before. It was swaying of hips and hopping around as if stepping on needles and it was whirling the poor brunette around until he looked dizzy, all the while Poland blabbered away. Later on, Spain was the one to save Lithuania and took over the dance with Poland which instantly turned quieter.

Iceland was sitting beside Norway, staring out at the friends and maybe beginning-to-be-couples.

Italy had taken Germany for himself and though the blond seemed uncomfortable, he let the other spin him around as he wished. France and Prussia shared another intimate moment, surprisingly soft for the albino, Finland thought and grabbed Sweden's hand tighter.

It was getting late.

Japan had fallen asleep against an also sleeping and very drunk England who had been arguing with America. Probably about the Revolutionary War, if Finland wasn't wrong. Russia, Ukraine and Belarus danced with each other in turns which was also interesting for those unfortunate to be nearby. It was Cossack dance so wild bones could easily be broken if you got too close.

Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania seemed to have retreated to a table where they talked instead of dancing. Not long after, Estonia came over and announced they would take their leave. Latvia had gotten a bit too much to drink and they would still have work to do when they woke up the following day. Finland nodded and thanked them for showing up and especially Estonia for being willing to help.

The next group to leave was the other Eastern Europeans. Ukraine went over and thanked both Sweden and Finland while the others waited by the door. Russia waved to Finland and smiled at Sweden.

After some time, the music stopped playing and it was clear to everybody still present that Norway was close to broken. He was normally as blank and expressionless as Sweden, so seeing him nearly in tears when he packed down his violin was extremely painful, even for Finland who didn't know him that well. The Norwegian passed by Denmark without a single word or a single touch. And since Denmark in truth was very loyal even if he might seek other women - and men, occasionally - to have fun with, he would never leave Norway for someone else. So that meant that Denmark, Norway and Iceland disappeared, not saying as much as goodbye to Sweden and Finland.

None of them could blame them, though.

Since that, everyone began to slowly go home. All of them went to Sweden and Finland to congratulate them one last time and show their gratitude for being invited even if they weren't the best of friends.

When all of their guests were gone and they were all alone, Sweden and Finland exchanged long looks, a slow but passionate kiss and a half glass of vodka before they went back home.

* * *

**Right, this was the reception. Next up is the wedding night and some hot and steamy sexy time. Woop! It was so hilarious to research Swedish and Finnish wedding traditions, seriously. I didn't think my Nordics neighbours were that awesome. :D I hope it wasn't too confusing or boring. And yes, Sweden and Finland would probably not do these things normally but hey - it's a party and there's alcohol and a cosy atmosphere! In case anyone wondered, the Polish vodka is "żubrówka" and the song Sweden sings is "Vi Är Dom Tuffaste (Dom Starkaste, Dom Grymmaste, Dom Vackraste)" by Nanne Grönvall. **

**Translation/more notes:**

_Hyvää ruokahalua! = Enjoy your meal (_Finnish_)_

_SIG SG 510 = Sturmgewehr 57_

_Prost = Cheers (_German_)_

_¡Salud! = Cheers (_Spanish_)_ (and yes, that exclamation mark in the beginning needs to be there_)_

_'Priekā'_ _= Cheers (_Latvian_)_

_Grattis, papa! Och grattis, mama! = Congratulations, dad! And congratulations, mom! (_Swedish_)_

_Onneksi olkoon = Congratulations! (_Finnish_)_

_Vad i helvete? = What the hell? (_Swedish_)_

Ja = Yes (

German_)_


	7. The wedding night

**Alright, here you have the last chapter. Enjoy the smutty smut with extra smut on top. Or something. It's actually not that bad.  
I don't own Hetalia or the characters.  
And a big round of applause for my wonderful, wonderful beta-reader, DancingOnRainbow! I'm so happy that you wanted to do this and that you have put up with my blabbering and my mistakes! You've helped me a lot with this! Thank you SO much! :D**

* * *

Sweden and Finland had rented a small but cosy house not too far from the reception. This was where they were now going.

They walked closely side by side and Finland continued to complain about the cold, using it as an excuse to get closer to Sweden who knew it was all lies but accepted it anyway. He loved having Finland close. There was nothing he would want more than that.

When Sweden could see the house, he elegantly picked up the smaller man, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Finland yelped just a bit before smiling warmly and his arms were put around the Swede's neck.

"Carrying me over the door step?" he mumbled into his ear when Sweden stood still to find the keys. He rested Finland's lower body and legs on his own knee while one hand continued to hold around the shoulders and the other rummaged through his pockets.

"Mmh. 'Course. I'm a good husban', right?"

"Mmhmmh. You indeed are," the Finn answered with a whisper and faintly let his tongue slide along the shell of Sweden's ear. He relished in the feeling of the bigger man shivering while fumbling with the keys, struggling to get the door open.

Once inside, Sweden put Finland down with a care that could have fitted for one handling the most precious porcelain. And though Finland wasn't exactly made of porcelain, he was still most precious to Sweden.

With one hand he closed the door and the other rested on Finland's waist, then he turned around to face his wife. It was official now, Tino was really his wife. What more could he possibly ask for?

"Such a good husband," the Finn whispered and let his fingers wander over Sweden's face, thumb brushing ever so gently over his lips.

. . . Except, perhaps, for ravishing Tino. Then he couldn't demand more. Just having Tino under his hands and under his lips, agile but careful, exploring fingers dancing over heated skin that blushed, eyes that closed in intense pleasure while muscles tensed and relaxed, delicate sounds escaping slightly parted but very swollen lips...

He shivered by the mental picture and leaned closer to Finland, putting an arm on the wall on the left of his head. It would be clear to anyone who looked into his eyes that he was aroused and yearned for having Tino even closer and be even more intimate. The royal-blue pools showed that his mind was only filled with indecent thoughts he would never have dared to think before. Lust clouded them and gave a darker shine but made them clearer as well.

He dreamt only of ravishing his little Finn, to leave his mark on him to tell everyone to back the fuck away, because if you messed with Finland, you automatically messed with Sweden. And you didn't want that.

"Husband, are you okay?" Finland then asked lowly, tilting his head ever so lightly. Sweden nodded while he breathed out heavily and felt the hair in the back of his head stand up, goose bumps covering his skin and his body make a single shiver that was very visible to the other, even in the dim light of the entrance.

The Finn at first looked in doubt, then smiled deviously and leaned his head back to get a better look at the other's face.

"Husband?" he mumbled again, his voice low and alluring and it was simply too much for the bigger of them. He let go of a sound that was a mix between a growl and a sigh while bending forward so he could press his lips to Finland's neck, feel the muscles and tendons move as words passed through, feel the warmth of Finland and feel the way his pulse began to race.

"Are you serious? If I say 'husband'-"

"Do I look like I'm jokin'?" Sweden growled against the skin, lips moving further up to plant feathery kisses all the way to the shell of his ear where they daringly parted and gave room for the tongue to dart out and give the shell a gentle touch that had Finland sigh softly.

"Mmh, no."

"Good."

Sweden leaned closer, heart pounding and mind racing, and by feeling his body make contact with Finland's, he closed his eyes and dared to move a leg in between Finland's who willingly spread them a bit apart, though not enough for the Swede to brush his knee against where he wanted it to. Finland knew this and he breathed out a chuckle against the other when their lips met.

Once more, it was the explosion of all kinds and nuances of colours and it was blood rushing through the veins, fire that seemed to spark in the body, in the heart and it was blood that seemed to boil as they moved together, demanding instead of soft. They were both too serious and too aroused to really take it easy. Their mouths pressed against each other forcefully, wanting to get more than just this but none was willing to give in and declare defeat.

Sweden was unable to contain a growl and he pressed harder against the Finn who simply just hummed in content, then yelped when he felt his side be grabbed harshly before strong and confident fingers began to rub the area, feeling the soft material of the dress and the strong wires of the corset.

"I want to feel your skin burn under my fingers," he whispered into Finland's mouth, mind fogging over as he lost more and more of the rationality and self-control that had kept him from doing anything like this to the man in front of him before, "I want to feel your skin melt under my lips. Off with this." He tugged carefully at the dress and pulled back after giving a final peck to the Finn's lips.

"A-Aren't you quite co-confident," Finland panted. His eyes were closed and his chest rising and sinking fast, his lips curled into a beautiful smirk and his cheeks were already flushed. But he didn't hesitate in obeying the Swede. Quite the opposite, really. He had found one turn-on in the man, now he wanted to find more.

So he slowly and sensually reached behind his back to grab the zipper of the dress and pulled it down a bit, watching the Swede whose gaze wasn't even near scary or fearsome in this moment. He watched as the other's jaws were set tighter and he saw the Adam's apple bob just a bit when the sound of the zipper being pulled down reached his ears. Finland couldn't fight off a cunning smile.

When it was finally all the way down and he could wriggle out of the dress, he did so equally elegantly and alluringly, ending up standing in just the corset and the garter belt and stockings.

Sweden was pretty sure he could hear the wall groan when he grabbed for further support while his breath hitched in his throat as he looked down at his beautiful Finn.

"Must hav' be'n a hassle," he growled when he reached a hand behind Finland's back and played with the laces a few seconds before pulling at the one that would make it fall to the floor. But before he did that, he suddenly turned them around so it was Sweden who had his back against the wall and Finland who was in front of him.

"Don' wanna squish you," Sweden mumbled as an answer to Finland's confused expression. Because as much as he had been sure of himself to never harm his precious little Tino, no matter how much he had said to himself that he couldn't expose his dear Finn to danger, he was beginning to doubt in himself. As he slowly lost bits and parts of his self-control and lost himself more and more to the most basic instincts, he was afraid he would squash the small man.

That couldn't happen if Finland was in front of him.

If either of them noticed how the Swede started to cut vowels again, none of them commented it. It seemed he couldn't keep up with forming the words perfectly if he was in a state of arousal and euphoria.

Sweden pulled at the laces and he could see how relieving it was for the other as Finland took a deep breath and then exhaled just as deeply when the piece of clothing was dropped to the floor. The Swede's fingers instantly began to run over the exposed skin, dancing on the neck and tracing lines over the chest and collarbone, dropping lower to draw invisible stripes over the hot stomach and abdomen, feeling how the muscles tensed just beneath the skin and he let his touches become more powerful, dig just slightly into the smooth and pale flesh.

He relished in the way Finland sighed, his eyes looking directly into the warm and scintillating eyes that had only rarely held such depths. It created another spark between them when the eye contact was maintained as they began to kiss again. Somehow, they managed to make it slower, more sensual but not at all less a fight for dominance. Sweden's fingers still explored the stomach, the chest, the sides and everywhere he could reach - which was a lot - and the skin under them really did seem like they were on fire. So heated.

A moment later, another part of his self-control was thrown out the window as he dropped his hand further down and around the man, grabbing one of the cheeks of the ass, having to suppress a laugh when Finland squealed against his lips. Half a second later, the man sighed and moaned when Sweden began to massage it, kneading it carefully, slowly, wanting to know exactly what could turn his precious Finland into a puddle of needy goo.

It was a shock for him - though a very pleasant one - when the other grabbed his hair and forced his head back a bit, breaking off the kiss.

"Now... now it's your turn," Finland panted and his voice was thick with lust, his eyes dark for the same reason. "Undress."

Sweden couldn't remember the last time he had accepted being commanded with. But he for sure knew in that moment, when he kept his gaze locked with Finland's and began to unbutton his tuxedo, that he would never want to take orders from anyone else than this man. No one could provoke the same feelings in him and it was only Tino that managed to leave him panting already before they were undressed.

The tuxedo came off rather quickly and was sloppily thrown to the floor to add to the pile of formal clothes.

As he reached for the top button of his shirt, a small and very hot hand grabbed his and hindered the movement.

A questioning look got him no answer before Finland placed his other hand on the belt of his trousers.

"One service is the other worthy, don't you think... husband?" he whispered. Sweden, who had formerly had his head leaned forward and away from the wall to maintain eye contact with his gorgeous Finn, now slammed it back against the wall and swallowed heavily, both hands clenched into fists as he fought a desperate fight to not do something to Finland that he would later regret.

He didn't get to say much before the small hand began to fumble with the belt, fingers working clumsily. They had just gotten it right when Sweden found it in him to take the hand and pull it away. No.

"Tino, nej," the Swede gasped, knowing that what the Finn was about to do could send him back many, many hundred years, to a point where his basic instincts were what controlled him. "Afraid of hurtin' ya, Tino."

"You can't hurt me, Berwald," Finland promised and though the Swede didn't at all believe that, there was something in the voice that stirred an emotion much deeper and much more forgotten than lust and arousal. It was the echo of undying trust, an endless belief that Sweden would never be able to harm him, no matter the situation.

Even now, when Finland wriggled his hand out of the other's grip and carefully loosened the belt while having his eyes on Sweden, ready to stop if the bigger said anything, Sweden's love for the very same man seemed to grow even stronger. Finland trusted him, Finland believed he would never hurt him. He had to show that the Finn didn't hope in vain, he had to control himself.

It was just so damn hard. Especially when he could feel the zipper be pulled down, fingers brushing against his hard erection. His jaws were set even tighter, his head leaning so hard against the wall it could seem he tried to break it and his hands were wavering in the air, not daring yet to put them on Tino's shoulders - or, oh God, could he even dare to grab his hair? - but not wanting to move them, either.

"You can't hurt me," the Finn once more said, his voice so incredibly silky and though edged with lust, the promise of eternal trust seemed to dance just on the tip of his tongue. He let the trousers fall to the floor, watched Sweden for a few seconds before reaching his hand up to the man's cheek. Sweden instantly leaned his face into the hand.

He was a very big and very strong man and he easily came off as confident and sure of himself. Due to his silent personality and his hard gaze, people never got close enough to realize the truth. In some cases, yes, he was sure of himself and wouldn't waver for a second in his opinion or thoughts. In others, he was very insecure, just as questioning about himself as any young teenager. It was only in wars and the Viking raids he had believed so much in himself. He knew how to do that, had done it for centuries, he had automatically gained some kind of expertise in that.

This was something completely new. He suddenly needed to be careful and he needed to not just rip off clothing - if he had even cared for that in the past - and take whoever was unfortunate enough to be his victim. As a Viking, any variant of 'no' had not been an answer and he had taken whoever he had liked, be it because of look or wealth. If he could gain something from it, he would do it. And so would Denmark and even Norway.

He needed to bury all of those memories, needed to bury what he knew about being intimate with another.

He knew what sex was. Now he needed to learn what making love was.

Sweden suddenly felt extremely vulnerable and weak. He was exposing himself completely to another, letting someone else have complete and absolute control over him like this. Tino could practically do what he wanted.

"Berwald, it's okay. I trust you. Do you trust me?"

"More th'n anythin' or any'ne els'," the Swede instantly answered and with disgust noticed how weak and shaking his voice was. But it was true. Tino was the one he trusted the most. He would trust his life with that man if it ever became necessary.

"Then take a deep breath and kiss me."

The command was obeyed with only a few seconds delay before Berwald lowered his head to meet Finland's searing lips and where the kisses had former been an expression of lust and arousal, the wish to continue and go all the way, it was now one of faith, trust, a way to show Sweden that Finland would take over if he wanted that. In that kiss lay all the emotions they felt for each other and it was no surprise for either of them that Sweden began to silently cry once more. Only few tears but they were there.

Finally. Someone who was ready to meet him head-on and wasn't afraid of him - at least not anymore - and someone who was ready to guide him where he needed it. Someone who was ready to stand up against him if he went too far. This was Finland, this was Tino. Everything he had ever wished for, and even more than that.

"It's okay," Tino whispered against his lips and let his hand fall. Slowly, very carefully. Fingers slid over his cheek, caught the few tears that ran from his eyes, and neck where they could find bare skin, went over the shirt and even through the fabric, Finland could feel goose bumps cover the strong body. Sweden's breathing was fast and just slightly scared, although, of course, aroused and he was still very turned on. The moment of vulnerability and weakness hadn't dampened thatin the slightest.

He was glad that Tino didn't ask for permission to touch him further down; he wasn't sure he would have been able to give a definite answer.

But as Finland began stroking him through his boxers, he felt his face flush and his mind fog over even more, his heart setting an unhealthy pace and he was very sure that the sound that left his mouth could be called a whimper. Lips parted, absorbing the sound, and Sweden somehow recognized the unfamiliar feeling of another tongue in his mouth.

His breath hitched in his throat when sensations and facts overwhelmed him. There was a hand touching his cock, lips on his and another tongue than his own in his mouth. The fingers quickly went from soft and careful strokes to actual pumping movements and Sweden didn't really understand how he didn't simply turn into a puddle of whimpers on the floor.

How could he remain standing like that when his legs felt like jelly?

But it was far from enough. There was something in the way, something hindering the hand in being free and make those movements even more unbearable.

And it was so embarrassing to ask Finland to take off his boxers, and Sweden was pretty sure he reached the limit for how much he could blush. Finland, though, didn't comment on it, simply pulled them down as asked, and had to break the kiss.

The loss of lips and tongue meant that the Swede could fully concentrate on the sensation of small fingers wrapping around his member and pumping it. Once more, he found himself slamming his head back against the wall, liquid fire mixed with adrenaline having replaced the blood in his veins. Oh God. This was... this was so good. He didn't know where his hands were in that moment and neither did he care. Only the feeling of one hand taking care of his member while the other began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, wanting to get that off, too, filled his clouded mind.

Sweden decided to do that, making his own hands useful.

"Tino," he choked out, nearly having forgotten how to speak in the haze of deep and enveloping lust that seemed to deprive him of oxygen. He was dizzy but he knew one thing - he should also be touching Finland instead of standing here like an idiot. "I wan' t' touch ya, Tino."

"Go ahead," the Finn whispered, continuing his devious actions and smiled up at the Swede who instantly dropped a hand to grab Finland's waist, resting there for a few seconds while he tried to get his mind together. When he didn't succeed, he aborted that mission and instead focused on drawing sensual lines from the waist and over the frilly mini-skirt. Fingertips slowly slid over the soft skin of his thighs, making the Finn hiss but in a way that even Sweden knew meant 'Keep going'.

And although it was hard to really focus with that one hand pumping him, he managed to somehow undo the garter belt and the stockings. His hands were shaking as they pulled down the stockings just a bit, enough to gain him easier access to what he really wanted.

As one of his hands carefully curled around an also very hard erection and Tino moaned, his eyes finally falling shut, Sweden was sure he could feel his heart stop, even for just a moment. It only started when Tino nodded, silently giving Sweden permission to continue and he did so.

He copied Finland's movements, trying to cast off the shadow of his Viking nature that didn't understand what he was doing. Taking in the sounds of Tino moaning and his own panting breathing, he could feel heat start to build in his stomach and he knew this was way too early. They had only been touching for... well, quite some time, but it had onlybeen touching! It was way, way too early to finish now.

He wanted more, demanded it to last.

Tino whined in pleasure when the Swede leaned even more forward, his back giving a few cracking sounds, and planted feathery kisses on his throat, feeling the pulse race, blood rush through the veins so fast it had to make him dizzy. His lips moved against the heated skin, greedy and wanting more than this. Before he knew it, his other hand had found Finland's face and held it there, fingers gripping the cheek so he had better access to the throat.

The Finn moaned and his hand pumped faster and harder, made the strokes longer and tighter. His body shivered wildly as Sweden followed, speeding up and slowly believing he got to know what this was all about. Trying to remember what made Tino wriggle especially much or moan just a bit louder, he carefully nibbled the burning skin beneath his lips. This resulted in a loud groan and Tino tensed so much his hand also tightened the grip around Sweden's cock, making him hiss and his eyes close.

They both pumped each other faster and harder, Sweden quickly picking up the pace and rhythm as he never ceased lavishing the neck with attention and kisses that turned deeper over time and he didn't deign bruises or hickeys a single thought.

All of a sudden, he felt Finland drop to his knees and he opened his eyes once more, looking down and fearing he had done something wrong or had been too rough or something so Finland had somehow passed out.

Of course, it showed to be something completely different. Tino didn't even seem in doubt about what he did when he took the Swede's hard and flush cock into his mouth.

Sweden nearly choked on the air that hitched in his throat and it was out of pure instinct that he grabbed for the closest thing for support - the blond locks of Tino's head.

"Tino," he whispered, eyes closing tightly when he felt the hot and wet tongue slide over his erection, effectively spreading both pre-cum and saliva and he moaned embarrassingly loud, once more letting his head knock into the wall behind him. "Tino, åh Gud, nej." English words disappeared from his vocabulary, his native tongue instead taking over.

He had never tried this. Never had he even thought of how good it could be.

Finland's tongue that ran up and down the shaft, following the big and pulsating vein before closing his mouth around the tip and then the shaft again, sucking it hard and deep, letting it rest against the slick muscle that was his tongue.

Sweden could only whimper when Finland apparently decided to take it further, his mouth moving lower on the cock and though he started lightly at one point, he continued. Not even Sweden's mindless blabbering could stop him from taking him so deep.

"Tino, Tino, Tino," the Swede whispered, helpless but to begin to rock his hips in tact with Finland's bobbing of his head, the sounds driving him crazy. His fingers intertwined in the blond locks of Finland's head and he hoped for everything in the world that he didn't end up forcing Finland to continue, because oh God, this was too good to end. This couldn't stop. The rush of blood, the ecstatic feeling of adrenaline and lust that seemed to fill his veins and his mind.

Tino moaned against him, a sound that created vibrations and sent them through Sweden's cock, made him hiss out loudly as he unconsciously twisted the blond hair around his fingers, the hot pool in his stomach shrinking and instead becoming a hard knot that began to beg to be untied again. Finland's hot mouth continued to envelop him, take him deep and his tongue swirled around the tip of the cock, smother it with pre-cum and saliva and when Sweden dared to open his eyes, he could see a tiny trail of the man's drool run from the corner of his lips.

His eyes were closed and cheeks coloured a deep crimson, yet he looked like he enjoyed himself. Like he actually liked this, to suck off Sweden who had become a whimpering mess from his touches.

"Tino, nej, jag-"

As if he had understood what Sweden was about to say, the Finn pulled away and looked up at him, a hand still around the base of the member, pumping it slowly to keep him on the edge. Then he said the dirtiest thing Sweden could possibly imagine him to say in that moment.

"I want you to come," whereupon he picked up from where he left, lips tracing the shaft from the tip and until he couldn't take more, then back up, nearly letting go before going down again, letting his tongue join in again. What his mouth couldn't handle, his hand took good care of, stroking what was left while the fingers of the other hand began to massage his balls.

Sweden was impressed by himself when he didn't come right then and there. But it was close. His fingers twisted the hair more and more, gripped it tighter while the knot in his guts seemed to curl in on itself, become so painfully tight that Sweden cried out when it was allowed to untie. He came hard, spilling into Finland's mouth and it was not on purpose when his hands forced the Finn to stay where he was until the Swede could once more breathe properly.

That didn't happen before his legs gave in, power having left them when he emptied, and he slid down the wall, mind completely blank and a thick, white fog the only thing he could see. His now limp cock slid out of Finland's mouth with a wet pop and though he would probably have found the sound gross, he couldn't really think about it right now.

He was exhausted. That was... oh God, could words succeed in describing it?

Trying hard to focus, the silhouette of Finland straddling him became clear.

"Berwald?" he whispered. His voice was slightly anxious and hoarse. Sweden blinked a few times, only now aware of his mouth hanging open and that he looked like an idiot. He closed it and looked at the Finn before him. Then felt more heat rise into his cheeks.

"You have..." He didn't finish but instead stretched out a hand to wipe away a trail of the white, sticky liquid that he hadn't been able to swallow. "You... swallowed?" Sweden seemed deep in shock by this. He had never tried it, never imagine how it could be. To him, it didn't seem appealing.

"I couldn't really do anything else," the Finn breathed out and gently tapped the big hands that rested on either side of Sweden. A chuckle escaped him when Sweden's eyes widened and though still glazy with release, they got a shine of horror.

"God, no, Tino, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" He was truly horrified. Did this mean he had hurt Tino? Had Tino found it uncomfortable? Of course he had, Sweden had more or less forced him to do it, hadn't he?

"Oh God, it was really not on purpose, I-"

He was silenced by a forceful kiss - and frowned. Salt. He could taste something salty on the lips and though he wasn't used to this kind of thing, he knew it was his own semen. It didn't matter, though. It was on Finland's lips and he wanted them to be clean again so he removed the last remains of the white fluid with his tongue, causing the Finn to sigh contently before pulling away.

"Don't apologize, Berwald. I don't mind it," he said with a small chuckle. Sweden was still not sure if that was true but he didn't get long to think about it before Finland spoke again, this time much more insecure, nearly shy. "But could you... I mean, I also..." He blushed again but kept looking up at the Swede, hands finding his chest. The heart was still racing, not really having come down from the high yet.

Sweden instinctively looked down and saw that the other's member was still hard. It had been neglected when Finland had taken care of him. Small beads of pre-cum trickled from the slit in the top and created a glistening trail down the shaft. Sweden took his attention back to the Finn's face.

"Uhm, i-if you don't wan-"

"There's nothing I would rather do." So while sharing another soft kiss that still tasted salty, Sweden gently pushed the Finn back until he lay on the floor. Then he stopped. What now? This was the position he was used to take people in. What did you do when you wanted to genuinely please your partner? How did you make them feel good?

Finland seemed to once more catch his insecurity but instead of rolling his eyes - many would see this situation as something completely natural and instinctual - or making Sweden feel even more stupid than he already did, he instead helped him.

"Kiss me. Everywhere. Burn my skin away with your lips and your tongue," he whispered, shivering both from the cold of the floor and from arousal. Swallowing a single time, Sweden nodded shortly and crouched above the Finn, leaning forward. His lips connected with the skin on the throat he had former assaulted and he could feel the pulse still race like chased by thousands of evil spirits. Tryingly, he moved further down, to the crook of the neck, lips pressing harder against the skin when it became more sparse and thinner.

Finland encouraged him with humming noises and sharp intakes of air sometimes, making Sweden feel a bit more secure in himself. At one point, he even dared to nibble again, this time at the collarbone which got Finland to gasp before he hissed in pleasure. A thing that the Swede instantly memorized and swore he would never forget.

Feathery kisses continued until he reached a nipple and he once more found himself unknowing of what to do. He... believed he had heard somewhere that you could kiss them but what if Finland didn't like it?

His worry was thrown out the window when a shaking hand brought his head closer, mouth brushing over the bud and Sweden could feel a small shiver go through the Finn. Being confirmed in his former belief, he did it again, only with more power. His lips closed over the nipple and carefully pulled at it, eliciting a high-pitched moan from Finland which encouraged him once more. Using his tongue to poke the bud, he relished in the feeling of Finland arching his back ever so lightly, another sound of pleasure escaping his lips. His skin was beautiful, Sweden suddenly realized. It was normally snow white and pure, without blemishes or bruises. Now it was painted a vague pink, the blood in his body rushing fast enough to bring out colour in every part of him. There were still no blemishes or bruises but something in Sweden's mind told him this would soon be changed.

When he no longer pulled new sounds of pleasure from the man beneath him, Sweden went lower, lips ghosting over the rib cage and the navel, every so often pushing themselves against the shivering and oh, so soft skin, earning him gasps and squirming. And he hadn't even reached the best part yet.

When he did, though, he once more reached the limit of his already sparse knowledge. But instead of waiting for Finland to instruct him, he did what Finland had done to him. Slowly taking the member into his mouth, he let his tongue swirl around it, lick along the shaft that was smaller than his own and though the sensation was strange, he didn't find it anywhere near disgusting.

The Finn mewled. He actually mewled and his back arched again, this time lifting further from the floor and his hands didn't hesitate in finding a tight grip in Sweden's hair, causing the bigger of them to moan softly which in return sent vibrations through the Finn and he squirmed around another bit.

"God, Berwald," he whispered and Sweden was about to pull back but the hands demanded him not to. "Continue. You're doing great." And Sweden had barely done anything.

But the words - and definitely also the hands - encouraged him to continue and he lowered his head once more, his lips closing tighter around the cock as he started to suck while he tried to make his tongue whirl around and help in creating pleasure at the same time. He soon found this too troublesome, though, and had to settle with just the lips. This also seemed to work.

The cock brushed against the top of his mouth and beginning of his throat and he felt his gag reflex instantly begin to protest. But this time, he didn't ask or wait for help, even if he was in doubt about exactly what to do. He could quickly draw a parallel to a thing in his young days as a Viking. If you had a troublesome city that didn't want to surrender, you kept on attacking until it finally gave in.

Sweden did this now, too. He took a few moments to let his gag reflex settle down before he took Finland deeper and he went dizzy for a second when he realized he had forgotten to breathe for a while. Taking in air through his nose, he could smell the wonderful scent of Tino and enjoyed both smell and movements of the same man.

Finland was incredibly tense in his back and his thighs and his fingers intertwined in Sweden's short, blonde locks when his hips began to move, thrusting in and out of the Swede's mouth, making them both moan and groan, their faces flush red. The hips quickly found a pace that Sweden could agree with and it made a strange feeling of calm fill his mind and his body. As they worked together, Finland's breathing turned shorter and sharper, air taken in small portions until it was barely there.

When it reached this point, Sweden remembered another thing the Finn had done to him. A hand was pulled down to his balls and carefully massaged them. This earned him a loud cry from the Finn and he tensed another bit while Sweden continued to suck him hard and deep until it all became too much.

The cry turned into a howl of his name as Finland came in his mouth, back arched beautifully and hands still in Sweden's hair, holding him in place if the man should have thoughts of pulling back.

Not that he had. The sensation of the hot semen painting the walls of his mouth white was not gross, just strange. He swallowed without a problem, though had to do it in two rounds because of the amount. It was very salty and with a faint hint of something spicy. When it was all gone, he went up again, lips still attached to the shaft to pick up the last remnants and he finished with a hard kiss to the tip, making the already shivering Finn shiver even more.

The hands in his hair fell and ended on the floor beside him with a thud. Finland's eyes were closed and his face had the same colour as the late summer sun setting over endless steppes with snow.

Sweden licked his lips.

"Tino?" he asked, voice slightly hoarse. The Finn nodded, though his eyes were still closed. Sweden ran a hand along his thighs and over his abdomen and chest. He wasn't tense anymore.

"Are you okay?"

A breathy laughter escaped the small man and he cracked open an eye to look up at Sweden.

"Understatement of the year," he whispered and with a single gesture beckoned Sweden closer. "That was wonderful, Berwald." They kissed slowly and passionately for an unknown amount of time. It surprised Sweden slightly that Finland didn't mind tasting himself on Sweden's lips but he didn't care. This meant that kissing after a blowjob was still possible - a thing he had heard many men didn't like. He was glad Finland wasn't the same.

The kiss ended when they both needed air and they drew apart, looking into each other's eyes. Finland frowned ever so lightly, yet still smiled.

"Ber?"

Sweden knew what he was on about. Even if he had just emptied, he wasn't done. He could still go and this time, he wanted to go all the way. His body demanded more and it demanded to feel Finland even closer, demanded to take him. It should be visible in his eyes, the glint of lust returning and his hard gaze that fought against it to regain dominance.

"So-sorry," he mumbled and drew back to sit on his ass. "You don't have to... If ya want t' sleep, it's okay."

"Don't be silly," Finland chuckled, his forehead smoothing again and he propped himself up on the elbows, eyeing the Swede with warmth sparkling in his violet eyes. "I... wouldn't mind myself, actually." It was embarrassing to admit but he knew there could be no secrets about this right now. And he really _did_want to try the 'real thing', too.

"... You sure? I don't want t' hurt ya, Tino."

"I am absolutely and one hundred per cent sure, my Swedish husband," the Finn said, a little breathless when he sat up properly, stretching out a hand to brush Sweden's cheek. A smile could be seen on the usually blank face and he took the hand to gently plant a kiss on the back of it.

"Continue t' use that word an' I can't answer for the consequences."

"You don't have to. And you still can't hurt me, silly."

Sweden settled with a wide smile as he picked up the Finn, cradled him in his arms and gingerly carried him to the bedroom.

Once inside the spacious room, they quickly found a giant bed with capacity enough for three persons. Sweden put Finland down on the sheets and initiated a deep and long kiss where he crawled atop of Finland, kissing him hard enough to make him groan and force his head down into the bed.

In no time, it had turned to feverish movements of hands that wanted more contact, wanted to get closer even if it wasn't possible. Hands ran over naked skin, pulled at hair and flesh, fingers brushing over nipples before teasingly twisting them gently. Lips crashed together again and again, quick and nibbling until both of them needed more and they weren't satisfied with just lips meeting. This time, it was Sweden who wrestled Tino's mouth open and slipped his tongue into the other's mouth, relishing in the soft cry that was muffled by the invading tongue.

Finland paid back by gripping his hair and forced him closer, a surprising amount of strength being put into that one hand while the other vaguely raked over his chest, leaving red marks that would soon disappear. This had Sweden groan lowly and he was about halfway in taking his hand around the Finn's throat before he remembered that such a thing would scare him - you only choked resisting victims, not your wife.

Instead he let the fingers brush over Finland's cheeks and tilted his head to gain better access to the mouth, his tongue swirling around Finland's and it was a strange sensation to taste himself mixed with Finland's. The muscles danced around with each other, fighting to become the more powerful oneand their breathing was quickly reduced to nothing but short pants that didn't provide them enough oxygen.

Hands dropped lower to teasingly stroke the other's erection, thumbs brushing over the tip and anew smearing pre-cum over the soft and delicate skin. Movements grew even more frantic until they nearly bruised each other by the power and the need, the desire, the lust. Pure lust and nothing else.

"Tino," the Swede growled, his voice not far off that of a wolf's, and Finland opened his eyes, formerly having closed them in pleasure, looking up at the other. He knew he should be scared by what he saw because in those eyes he saw more than just hunger for him and more than just the craving of his body.

In the deep blue eyes he saw wildness he had only seen once when Sweden had beaten up Denmark and it had resulted in Denmark getting a multitrip ticket to the hospital. The wildness that descended from many centuries back, a ferocity that had gotten him to kill, to slaughter, to burn down homes and churches, raid buildings and steal whatever he could. The same wildness that had gotten him to rape the men neither Denmark nor Norway wanted.

It was the same ferocity that now glistened in the royal-blue orbs and when he bent forward to kiss Finland's neck, the Finn could feel it linger on the lips, feel the way Sweden fought against instincts so old he could barely have known anything else. Sweden fought against that very same wildness when the lips parted and his teeth grazed over the throat.

The Swede was like a beast set free after many years in captivity. He was wild with lust but tamed by love, making it a lot harder to fall into his Viking-self. But it was still very possible, he could feel it tear at his body, his mind, and he could feel himself shake fiercely, trying to stop himself from biting down on Finland's neck. He begged Finland to stop him, begged Finland to show resistance, to yell at him to stop, or even push him away. Anything that would make Sweden's mind clear and make him realize what the hell he was doing, that he was falling back into his old self he had sworn to never show little Tino.

But maybe it was good he didn't do just that. Because back then, if you resisted the Vikings and fought back, you were beaten, raped or killed. Sometimes all three, in various order, depending on the mood of the Viking.

"You can't hurt me," Finland whispered and Sweden could feel the muscles and tendons move in the throat. His wildness got the best of him for a second when he couldn't help but bite down, softly but enough to leave a mark. Yet, Finland still whined and squirmed around and there was no hint of immense pain in his voice.

"Jo. Jo, jag kan, Tino," Sweden choked out, his body so tense he couldn't believe muscles hadn't been torn yet.

"No, Berwald, you can't. Trust me, and trust you. You don't have to hold back." His voice trembled and his hands once more showed incredible strength when they forced Sweden's head away from his throat and made him stare directly into Finland's eyes. "Berwald. You can't hurt me. Do what you feel like. We'll take it from there, just please, go on."

It took a few seconds for Sweden to nod and he took a deep breath before he nodded once more and Finland dropped his hands to touch the Swede's sides and brush over his stomach, his nipples while maintaining eye contact. Berwald dipped his head again to plant more kisses and soft bites along the left side of the milky white neck, leaving marks and bruises. Then he lifted his right hand and let the fingers brush over the mouth, tapping on the lips to get them to part. His heart was beating fiercely in his chest as the lips did as wanted, allowing the fingers entrance. A tongue swiftly swirled over them, lips sucking them and a slight whimper escaped the Finn when Sweden growled against his throat and intensified the bite just a bit.

_Berwald, stop, Berwald, please, stop yourself, stop, for God's sake, you're hurting him!_

But Finland continued coating the long digits in his saliva and he was panting when Sweden gently withdrew them, the small face completely flushed and violet orbs hidden behind slightly quivering lids.

Sweden wasted no time in taking his wet fingers to Finland's entrance and they stopped for a second, tense and crooked, before he forced them to relax and let just one prod at the hole, waiting for the Finn to agree. The vague nod that followed got Sweden to slide the finger inside, past the tight ring of muscles. Finland hissed vaguely but kept nodding, signalizing that Sweden shouldn't dare stop now.

"Tel' me if 't hurts," he begged, voice uncharacteristically deep and edged with lust.

"Of course," Finland whispered and his lips curled in a smile. Sweden waited another few moments for the other to get accustomed to the sensation. Then he began moving the finger, sliding it in and out. In a slow pace, at first, but when he could feel the tightness begin to give in just a bit, he dared to speed up. The Viking in him still tried to get the best of him and make him take Finland right then and there, his cock throbbing and hard again, just as Tino's was. They were both very ready to go again but Finland was far from prepared enough. Sweden was big - in every meaning of the word - and he didn't want Finland to be hurt for anything in the world. Especially not if it was just to give himself a short-timed pleasure.

"Another," the Finn then panted, throwing his head to the side and his eyes closed tightly. Sweden didn't hesitate in bringing in the second finger, pushing it in beside the first and once more past the tight ring of muscle. Finland winced and for a moment, Sweden thought he would be asked to pull them out but it didn't happen. Instead he repeated his former movements, starting slow and gradually sped up until Finland seemed comfortable with two fingers. The Swede stared down at him, the hard and wild shine in his eyes still present but it didn't seem to scare off little Tino as he returned the gaze when he opened his eyes.

"Hurts?" Tino shook his head, smiling softly.

"Nej. Fortsätta," he just said and beckoned Sweden closer, eyes glistening, and took an arm around his neck to hold the bigger man against himself, their chests pressing against each other. "Kyssa mej, Berwald." The Swede wasn't slow in obeying those words, crashing their lips together as well as adding a third finger which made the Finn cry into the other's mouth, the hot cave absorbing the sound.

Soft velvet moved against his own, massaged his and silently told him it was okay, that he was doing great. Sweden nodded faintly, continued to make scissoring motions with the fingers, thrusting them in and out in a gradually accelerating speed until Finland began shaking so much even Sweden knew he was ready. He didn't need the man's words or the stroke of his hard and leaking cock to know that he could go.

And so he did. Pulling out his fingers again, the Swede spat into his hand instead of using the lube they had gotten from Denmark. Finland commented it.

"Denmark gave us-"

"Fuck him," Sweden growled, his voice deep and hoarse, filled to the brim with lust and the wildness so deep-rooted, "don' wanna hear his nam' now."

He coated his throbbing and needy cock with the saliva before lining up with Finland's entrance.

"Klar?" Finland nodded fiercely and Sweden took a firm hold of his hips and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before pushing inside.

The Finn whined and clenched the Swede tighter, nails digging into his back and shoulders, and Sweden hissed and tautened his grip on Finland's hips, bending his own body forward as he pressed his way inside, burying himself to the hilt before finally holding still. Oh God, Tino was still so tight, even after being prepared. The walls clenched around his cock and he was shivering and so very tense, on the verge on ignoring the pain it would cause Finland if he moved but the man's face already showed pain and he was already wincing, tears beginning to crawl into his eyes.

Sweden saw them and through the haze of lust and wildness he recognized them and their meaning and in a desperate wish to console him, he let a hand drop down between his legs and gently began to stroke his neglected member. It made the Finn whimper and his body tensed again but as soon as he had gotten used to the feeling of having Sweden inside him, it became bearable. Shivering and still uttering low whines and whimpers, Finland nodded to the other, signalizing that he could move. The sounds he let escape his mouth were now full of want, desire and lust.

And Sweden did so.

"Sorry, Tino, I'm so sorry," he whispered while pulling out a little bit, then pushed back inside, hissing once more when he was completely enveloped by the tight heat of Finland and his mind seemed unable to fathom any thoughts, any words that might or might not have escaped the little Finn's whimpering lips. Only the very basic instincts of moving back and forth, in and out, and he did so with a power that only built and a pace that only fastened.

Moans and whimpers filled the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin, growls ripping from Sweden's throat while Finland mewled. Nails dug further into his back, leaving deep and red marks on the pale skin where they drew long lines.

Adrenaline rushed through Sweden and he could barely breathe right, only vaguely registered how Finland at one point swung his legs around his waist, wanting him deeper, faster, harder, yet not able to say so. His breath was caught in his throat every time Sweden thrust inside him. The Swede shifted position just slightly and it resulted in the Finn giving a cry so loud Sweden wondered if the neighbours had heard it.

"Voi Luoja," the man gasped and his eyes fell shut when he wriggled to try and get Sweden to hit that spot again. "Please, Berwald, again," he begged and Sweden was only happy to comply, shifting again to regain the posture after Finland had moved around. He thrust deep inside again, feeling the tight walls clamp down on his cock, as if trying to deny him access but then not allowing him to get out. Few more thrusts and Finland cried out again, his back arching beautifully and Sweden's fingers gripped harder around the fragile hips, not for a second thinking about the risk of breaking the bones.

Now, when he had found that special spot again, he kept on aiming his thrusts directly at it, slamming mercilessly against that particular bundle of nerves that had Finland mewling and crying and he nibbled at the man's collarbone, nibbled at the throat and the nipples, wherever his teeth could find naked skin, white flesh that would bruise before long.

It didn't take long before Sweden's movements became less controlled and more frantic, more desperate and wilder, searching for the blissful release. He began to snarl and he let go of Finland's hips, something in the back of his mind telling him he would snap the bones if he didn't let go, and he instead grabbed the sheets beside the Finn's head.

"Tino," he snarled, frantically thrusting faster and deeper, yet not at all more contained. The hot pool in his stomach grew again, grew and grew until it became white-hot and unbearable and he stared down at the Finn, eyes narrowing in wild seek for release but he wanted, oh God, Tino should also feel good, that was the most important thing in this. His release didn't matter a single bit if Tino didn't feel good.

"Tino, h-how are you?" He only got a whimper in reply and Sweden stroked the man's cock and licked his neck, nibbled at it before giving a soft bite, all the while he aimed perfectly at the Finn's sweet spot. It all became too much for the small man and with only few more thrusts, he once more cried out, his entire body tensed, his back arching and he came in Sweden's hand, the white liquid splattering over the fingers and his own stomach and chest.

Feeling the already tight heat hug him closer, Finland clamping down on his cock and the tension that was finally released, Sweden followed not long after, growling like an angered dog as he forced himself inside one more time before he also came, spilling into the small man, making the cry continue before it died out with a broken sound and he fell back into the mattress, sweaty and shivering.

Sweden, though, was not quite done. Even if he had already come and he was empty, he kept thrusting into and out of Finland's body, still growling and he only stopped when he felt his own muscles relax and turn into jelly.

For a few seconds, he managed to remain crouching over the Finn, though his arms shook, but in the end, he couldn't keep it up and he fell down beside the other, pulling out with a wet pop.

It could be half a minute they lay there and it could be half an hour. All that Sweden knew was that he at one point rolled to the side and embraced Finland tightly, pressing him tightly against his chest, not caring in the slightest about the sticky substance on the smaller man's body.

And slowly, he felt the blood slow down and he could feel his inner Viking let go of him, letting him return to his overprotective and insecure self.

"Tino? Tino, are you okay?"

"Mmh," the Finn mumbled and looked up at him, eyes clear and wet. He lifted his arms and put them around Sweden's giant body. "Will bruise like hell tomorrow but it was definitely worth it." Sweden's eyes widened in horror and he gingerly pushed the other away a bit to study the places he could remember having attacked. Finland was very right. Already now, bruises and marks started to appear on his neck and collarbone.

"Oh God. Tino, I'm so sorry." He had wanted this to be soft and loving, caring. He had just wanted to make Finland feel good without hurting him and yet, he had given him bruises. That had to have hurt and that was not what he wanted! "I didn't want to hurt you, Tino, I'm so sorry-"

"Berwald," Finland interrupted and put a finger over the blabbering lips, effectively silencing him. "Shut up. You apologize too much." But it was said with a wide smile and he looked genuinely happy. He gave the Swede a quick peck on the lips before nuzzling closer to him. "It was fantastic. You have nothing to apologize for."

"But-" Sweden pointed at the biggest of the bruises and Finland simply laughed.

"Idiot. Now everybody will know who I belong to."

"... Like they were ever in doubt."

For a while, they listened to each other's breathing as it went back to normal, felt each other's body and tried to get closer even if pretty much all of their limbs were already tangled together.

"You know," Finland then said, voice slurred by sleep but he was still awake, "I'm still boss."

Sweden frowned. What was- ... oh, right. Stomping with the foot and the 'Ja'-thing.

"No way. I'm boss, you're the wife."

"So you're saying women are less powerful than men?"

"Rule of nature. Men's muscles are bigger and men are supposed to protect the family."

"Hmpf. Not fair," Finland muttered but there was a chuckle hiding behind the words. It was an idiotic discussion, really. They were both men, Sweden was just a tad stronger. A big tad.

A quick line of thoughts went through Sweden's mind. He knew he wasn't very... experienced when it came to making love and he also very much knew that he wasn't secure of himself in that kind of situation, either. He was confident in basically anything else but it seemed Finland knew a lot more about this subject than Sweden did.

"I'm boss, nej, let me finish, outside of bedroom. You're boss in bedroom. Hmm?" It took a few moments for Finland to react but when he did it was with loud laughter. Sweden let him laugh, even if it embarrassed him, knowing that such kind of offer wasn't very normal.

"And... if I want it outside of the bedroom?"

Sweden felt a chuckle force its way forth and out of his mouth, a deep and warm sound he wasn't used to.

"Then we'll take it from there."

"No, we settle this now. If I'm boss of sex, we have a deal."

"Boss of sex? Oh, how you can put it, Tino," Sweden chuckled and ruffled the other's hair gently, planting a sweet kiss on his forehead. Finland didn't seem affected by it.

"Pleeeease. You can decide anything else!"

"If you eat surströmming just once."

"Forget it, man."

"You can still be boss but no fooling around in saunas that will get me roasted."

"Fooling around in saunas without you getting roasted?" Sweden thought about it for a moment. Well, saunas were extremely hot and it had already been warm enough in here so maybe it wasn't a good idea. But in the end, he decided to give up on the topic, knowing that neither of them would give in anytime soon if it continued like this.

"Fine. You're boss of sex, I'm boss of everything else." Finland made a triumphant sound.

"Deal."

* * *

**As said; last chapter. It's kind of sad it's done, I think. I liked writing this. I hope you have enjoyed reading and that it hasn't been too boring or out-of-character. A review would be appreciated. :D Oh, also: I know that many people see SuFin as the softest, cutest and fluffiest thing ever (don't worry, I do agree!) but in my mind, Sweden doesn't know a lot about passionate intimacy, therefore resorting to what he does know. Hence why he's… not that soft here. *cough*  
Translations:  
**_nej, jag- = No, I-_ (Swedish)

_Nej = no_ (Swedish (and Danish))

_Jo. Jo, jag kan, Tino, = Yes. __Yes, I can, Tino (Swedish)_

_Nej. Fortsätta = No. Continue (Swedish)_

_Kyssa mej = Kiss me (Swedish)_

_Klar? = Ready? (Swedish)_

_Voi Luoja = Oh God/Oh my God/etc. __(Finnish)_


End file.
